The Risk of Fearlessness
by Thoughtful Constellations
Summary: When Sam & Dean Winchester run into hunter Ariel Easton, she's running from something, & it's something big. Against Dean's better judgment, & despite the fact that Ariel knows how to push his buttons, he finds himself wanting to help her. And against his even better judgment, he finds himself growing attached to this strange hunter whose reputation rivals that of his & Sam's.
1. Idjits

**Hey, guys!**

**This is my first time writing a _Supernatural _fanfic, so I'm pretty excited. I'm currently in the middle of writing an _Iron Man_ fanfic (that's usually what I stick to), and I don't like to have two stories going at once, but I had this idea, and I wanted to get it out.**

**This story's taking place sometime in Season Two. There will be elements of Season Two throughout here, but in this first chapter, there isn't really a mention of it. Please review, and let me know what you think!**

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Chapter 1

"Do you have any of your sister's belongings that we could look at?"

Dean Winchester tried to appear morose at the side of his brother who was now asking a certain Andrea McCann if she basically owned anything of Molly McCann's that could be burned. That wasn't exactly what Sam Winchester had just asked, but that was the gist of the question. Dean resisted the urge to look at his watch; the brothers had been working this job for two days now, and he was ready to be done with it. He'd never been good with the emotional part of dealing with people. Whenever he and Sam went around asking folks about their dead loved ones, there were almost always tears involved, and he just wasn't any good at handling it. Sam, on the other hand, was the sensitive one who dealt with emotions just beautifully, so Dean was more than happy to step back and let his little brother take care of this part of the job.

The job was simple enough. There'd been some killings in this town in Pennsylvania that they'd linked back to a ghost who was avenging her death by killing the men she'd been out boating with. The men had just been planning on dunking her in the water by having the boat flip, but the boat had wound up striking her on the head and killing her. _Obviously, the way to get back at the men for a stupid joke was to kill them_, Dean thought to himself. _Ghosts are so petty_. Though now that he thought about it, ghosts were usually the easiest things to gank. Salt their bones, and light 'em up. Certainly easier than trying to deal with a demon or a wendigo. The thing about ghosts was that they were just too damn petty; demons were evil because they were from fucking Hell, and wendigos were just made that way—not that that excused what they did. Ghosts were fucking petty, and Dean hated dealing with petty shit.

"Um, I have a few things. Just out of curiosity, why is the FBI suddenly so interested in my sister's death? First, there was that other agent who was here yesterday asking around, and now you guys are here. Is something wrong?" Andrea McCann asked, her eyebrows furrowing into a frown.

As soon as she said those words, Dean knew something was definitely wong. He discreetly exchanged a look with Sam, whose own face was reflecting the very things Dean was thinking. He looked back at Andrea and put on a smile so that she wouldn't pick up on his and Sam's apprehension and get suspicious.

"Another agent was here?" he asked in a professional tone that seemed fit for an FBI agent.

"Yeah, a woman. She took my sister's locket with her for examination or something," Andrea replied with that same frown on her face. Dean resisted making eye contact again with Sam, but he could feel his brother's frantic hazel eyes settling on him, the confusion and the questions radiating through his skin.

This was new information to the both of them; a woman had already come and taken care of it. Bobby hadn't informed them of any other hunters who were on the job, so something rang very suspicious about the whole situation. But Dean just nodded and acted as though he knew exactly what Andrea was talking about.

"Right! Right, our boss told us he was sending someone out to give us a hand with the investigation. Could you tell me the agent's name?" he asked, putting on one of his heart melting grins. His grin had the desired effect because Andrea's face began to turn slightly pink, and she let out a small, self-conscious laugh. _Take that, Sam. You and your puppy dog eyes_, Dean thought, smirking as he did so for Sam's benefit. Dean knew that out of the two, he was the one with the rugged handsome looks and the bad boy vibe. Sam was the one who just looked so damn sweet and vulnerable that it was almost impossible to resist him. Until he started talking and being nerdy and shit.

"Uh, yeah! Yeah. Her name was Agent Sanders. Amanda Sanders. I have her card here somewhere…" Andrea started rummaging on the coffee table between her and the two brothers. Since she wasn't looking, Dean used the opportunity to look over at Sam. The long-haired brother seemed to be just as confused and suspicious about all of this as he was. Sam frowned and gave a bit of a shrug while shaking his head, signaling that he knew nothing about this and had no idea what the fuck was going on either.

"Right! Here it is," Andrea said, producing the business card and passing it to Dean. Dean took it from her and looked at it. Agent Amanda Sanders. If the woman were a hunter, there was no earthly way that she would've given her real name, so this name on the card was probably a fake. Even though it wasn't revealing who this mysterious agent was, it was a step in the right direction.

"Yep. Agent Sanders," Dean announced, holding up the card for Sam to see.

"Was there anything special about the locket that she took with her?" Sam asked as he glanced at the card and then redirected his gaze back to Andrea. Andrea shook her head. Her mouth slightly twisted to the side as she thought.

"Not really. She didn't say anything about why she was taking it. It was just a locket that Molly used to wear. Didn't have anything in it until after she died," she said.

"After she died?" Sam repeated. He leaned forward. He was in full business stance now with his elbows leaning on his knees and his ears pricked forward. As Dean looked at his brother, he could almost picture Sam being a bloodhound. The thought was so random and ridiculous that it was all Dean could do to keep from snickering out loud; he couldn't deny it: sometimes he got distracted very easily, and this was one of those times. He refocused his attention to what was happening in front of him. If Sammy could keep attention, so could he.

"Yeah, after she died, I put a piece of her hair in the locket to remember her by," Andrea replied.

Bingo.

Dean looked over at Sam, and Sam looked over at Dean. They didn't need to exchange more than a glance to understand that their work was done here. Sam stood, and Dean followed suit.

"Thank you for answering our questions, Miss McCann. We'll be in touch with our partner and see what we can find," Sam said fluidly, holding his hand out to shake hers. After she'd shaken hands with Sam, she turned to Dean and took his. She wasn't a bad looking girl, Dean thought as he shook her hand; she was a redhead, and she was a bit on the tall and pale side, but that didn't matter in the long run of things.

"Take care," he said and followed Sam, who was edging towards the door. They silently turned and politely walked out the door and onto the porch before heading down the stairs to the car. Sam was slowing his steps so that Dean could catch up with him.

"A hunter, you think?" he asked.

"Fuck if I know. Bobby didn't say shit about a hunter already on this job," Dean replied. He pulled his car keys out of his pockets. "But what we _do_ know is that this hunter or whoever she is already has the locket. There's either something really different about this case, or there's something really different about this hunter."

"And a female hunter at that," Sam said, a perplexed look on his face. He glanced over at Dean. His hazel eyes were catching the sun in such a way that they looked more green—like Dean's—than that mixture of brown and green.

"Yeah, what kind of chick decides to take up this life?" Dean returned. "I've never known a female hunter."

"Jo," Sam said diplomatically.

"Whatever. Jo's different."

"It _is_ strange to find a female hunter when the rest of them are male. It's…it's gotta be personal." Sam stood still as his thoughts ran wild. Dean took a few extra steps before turning around to look at his brother. He raised his eyebrows in impatience and gestured towards the Impala with the hand holding the keys.

"You gonna sit there and play Dr. Phil on a chick we don't even know, or are you gonna come on?" he asked. The impatience was obvious in his tone. Sam shook his head and folded his arms, still thinking.

"Think about it, Dean. We've never come face to face with a female hunter before. Jo got into it for personal reasons. This hunter had to have gotten into the life because of personal reasons, too. Also. Get this: we've never run into her before. Hunters know each other. Why haven't we collaborated with her? Why don't we know her? Why is she just now turning up out of the blue? This case has also got to be a personal case," he said. Dean wrinkled his nose.

"Dude, you're overthinking it way too hard. Ten bucks says that she just took the job, and we just happened to run into her. Simple as that. We've never run into Jo on any jobs," he pointed out. "Get in the damn car."

Without waiting for Sam, Dean ducked into the car and started it while also dialing Bobby's number on his cell phone.

"What?" A gruff, familiar voice came over the phone. Dean saw out of the corner of his eye that Sam was, indeed, getting into the car, though he still appeared to be deep in thought.

"Bobby, it's me. Turns out that another hunter was here before us and got a hold of the object we needed to burn. Do you know anyone else who might've taken the job?" he asked.

"What? No. I don't keep tracks on what everyone's doing, ya idjit," Bobby returned.

"Do you know any female hunters? Any that might use the alias Agent Amanda Sanders?" Dean asked, continuing to press.

"Dean, I also don't keep everyone's aliases memorized. I'm not a phone book. What are you gonna do now that this hunter's beat you?" Bobby asked in return. Dean sighed.

"Hey, she didn't beat us! She took our damn job. But anyway, I don't know. We're trying to figure out who showed us up, but we're not really all that sure. We can always try the cemetery to see if she's there," he said. He looked over at Sam to see what Sam thought. Sam nodded in approval.

"I thought you boys burned the bones already."

"We did. But I've got nothing. We might as well try the cemetery."

"Alright. Let me know what you two find out."

"Will do, Bobby." Dean hung up. "To the cemetery we go, Sammy."

* * *

Frustration built up in swells in Dean's chest as he stood over the grave where he and Sam had burned Molly's bones last night. Nothing. There was no sign of anyone having been there. His green eyes scanned the ground for any clues for what was probably the millionth time in the past five minutes. He didn't know why this was getting to be a personal quest for him, but he was determined as hell to figure out who this hunter was. He wasn't exactly a big fan of someone coming and just taking over a job like that. Hunting monsters didn't exactly come with a lot of rules, but there was certainly an unspoken etiquette amongst hunters, one of those etiquette rules being to not steal jobs from each other. Not only was it just rude, it made the job more tricky and more complicated, and people got suspicious. Involving more people just got to be sticky because inconsistencies began to bubble over, and more questions were asked. More questions meant more blown covers.

"There's no sign that anyone was here," Sam said aloud, placing his hands on his hips. They both stood at the edge of the grave. Nothing seemed to have been touched since last night when they realized that burning the bones hadn't destroyed the ghost of Molly McCann. Sam released a sigh and crossed his long arms across his chest. His thumb rubbed across his lip as he thought.

"What are we gonna do now? We can't just walk away and accept that someone fucking took our job," Dean said adamantly.

"Trust me, I'm not any more thrilled about it than you are, but it seems that we have no leads to go on. There's nothing, Dean. Nothing." Sam ran a frustrated hand through his hair, but then he stopped, his eyes alight with an idea. "Wait, do you still have her business card? Is her number on it?"

A smile split across Dean's face.

"Sammy, sometimes you're not completely useless," he said. He pulled the card out of his inside jacket pocket and smiled, holding it up to the light as if it were the Holy Grail itself. "Behold."

"Not to intrude on your dramatic moment, but do you wanna make the call, or should I do it?" Sam asked. Dean held it out diplomatically with a shrug.

"It's all yours. If I get on the phone with that bitch, I'm gonna chew her out, and we may need her as back up in the future," he said. "Hopefully, she hasn't already changed her number. If she's even a damn hunter."

"Yeah, we can hope." Sam took the card from him and punched the number into his phone. Dean crossed his arms and waited as Sam began pacing lightly back and forth alongside the grave. If either of them found this whole situation morbid, neither showed it. They were more than used to doing anything and everything by the side of a grave, so it didn't bother either Dean or Sam that they were casually discussing their plan of action beside a grave that had once held the body of a young, drowned woman.

Life was strange.

Suddenly, a ringing from behind a tree off to Dean's left caught his attention, and he gestured to Sam. Sam stopped and looked off in the direction that Dean was gesturing.

"What the fuck," he mumbled, stepping in closer to Dean and squinting his eyes. Dean pulled out his handgun from the back of his waistband and held it out in front of him.

"We know you're there!" he shouted. Silence except for the ringing phone. He heard Sam pull out his own gun, too, and that was when the irony struck him. He was in a cemetery with a gun in his hand, ready to have a showdown with whoever had intercepted their job. He obviously didn't want the worst case scenario, but if anyone were to get killed here in the worst case scenario, the irony of being shot in a cemetery didn't escape him.

"Come on out!" Sam shouted.

Sure enough, a woman came out from behind the tree, holding a cell phone in her hand. She was dressed in dark skinny jeans and a flowy yellow tank top with a grey cardigan over it. Her hair was a dark honey blonde, and it was cut to just below her chin in a straight across bob. A half-grin was on her face as she stepped out.

"What the fuck?" Sam mumbled again. He and Dean exchanged a look, and Dean gestured his head forward. They both slowly took steps towards the woman, neither of them lowering their guns as they approached. The tension was high in the air, so thick that Dean was sure he could've shattered it with just one shot from his gun. His breathing was slow and even as he came closer and closer to the woman in front of him. As he slowed to a stop, his gun still raised, he saw that she had dark navy blue eyes. If he hadn't been holding a gun up to the woman, and if he weren't pissed as hell, he would've found her to be attractive. But he wasn't in a womanizing mood. Dean Winchester was furious, and he wasn't showing mercy today.

"So you're the famous Winchester brothers," she remarked, scanning over both boys from head to toe. "Took you long enough to figure me out."

Her hazel eyes were quick and light in their movements, flicking over the two of them and then settling on their faces as if it hadn't even been worth her time. A flicker of curiosity crossed her face, but it was soon replaced by a mixture of casual indifference and a challenging glint in her eye. Her hands were still raised, but she didn't appear the least bit dangerous.

"Who the fuck are you?" Dean snapped. She gave a short laugh and shook her head.

"You gonna lower your weapons?" she asked.

"We have no idea who you are, and just for safety's sake, we'd like to keep them up," Sam calmly explained. The woman met Sam's eyes, and she stared at him for a few silent seconds. Then she shrugged.

"Ok," she said. "My name's Ariel Easton. I'm a hunter, just like you two."

"Who can we verify this with?" Dean demanded, his voice still harsh as he spoke to her. She gave no reaction as she turned her gaze back to him. Her steady blue eyes looked at Dean with a calm that shouldn't have been natural on anyone's face, considering that she was being held at gunpoint by two strange men who both cleared 6'0" easily.

"Bobby Singer," the woman replied confidently. Dean's eyebrows shot up the length of his forehead, and he was sure that he'd lost them in his own damn hair when he recovered his surprise and frowned at her. Confusion clouded his system as he racked his brain to see if he remembered an Ariel Easton ever having been mentioned.

"I don't believe you. Bobby's never said a damn word about an Ariel Easton," he said. His voice revealed more aggression than confusion, a fact that he was thankful for. It didn't do any good to show that a hunter was confused; confused was what got people killed, and Dean wasn't planning on dying today.

"Go ahead, and call him," Ariel answered.

"I'm sorry, but we've got to tie you up until we know for sure who you are," Sam said slowly as if he were speaking to a wild animal. Ariel narrowed her eyes at him. Dean's muscles tensed, sure that she was about to reveal what kind of monster she was, sure that he had to jump in to protect his brother. But then she shrugged.

"Fair enough," she said. "I'd do the same to the both of you."

Expectantly, she held her wrists out. Sam pulled a piece of rope from the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket, and he tied her wrists together, a look of apology crossing his face. Dean dialed Bobby's number, his eyes still locked on Ariel as he waited for the man to pick up.

"What?" Bobby snapped into the phone.

"Bobby, it's me. Can you verify a female hunter by the name of Ariel Easton?" Dean asked. He couldn't help the smirk that slid across his face as he waited for Bobby to deny knowing the name. Whatever creature this was, he was more than ready to gank it and then be done with this town and this job. To his surprise, Bobby let out a chuckle.

"Yeah, of course I know Ariel Easton," Bobby said. "She's one of the best goddamn hunters out there."

Confusion and annoyance flooded through Dean's blood as he processed what Bobby was saying. He stared wildly at the woman in front of him, and she was grinning back up at him with a smug little look that said she'd known this was going to happen. Angrily, he turned his back on her and took a few steps away so that she couldn't hear what was being said.

"Are you serious?" he hissed into the phone. "How come Sam and I have never heard of her before?"

"She keeps a low profile. For good reason, too. Is she the one who stepped in on your job?"

"Yeah, she did, Bobby. Bobby, this isn't funny." Dean huffed in annoyance as Bobby's snickering filled his ear. He glared at the phone, and he knew that it was childish, but he didn't give a shit. He was too angry at having been made a fool of in front of this Ariel chick. Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw that Sam had lowered his weapon and was staring at him with a perplexed look on his face.

"Ariel Easton took over your job? That girl is something," Bobby said with a chuckle. Dean let out another sigh and put his free hand on his hip.

"I'm not happy about this, Bobby," he snapped.

"Please, you're just mad that she made you and Sam look like the idjits you are. It's about time that you guys met, anyway. She's someone that you want to have on your side when push comes to shove, and in this business, push _always_ comes to shove."

"If she's such a great hunter, she should know that you don't fucking steal another hunter's job."

"Cool it, wouldja? I never said she was polite. She's goddamn brilliant, but you don't want to run with her for too long. Do you hear me, Dean? Don't try to team up with her. She's a solo act, for starters, and she's got a lot of baggage that you don't want to get stuck with."

"Baggage?"

"Go lick your wounds elsewhere."

Dean stared at the phone as the tone signaled that Bobby had hung up. As helpful as Bobby was, sometimes he really didn't do jackshit. Reluctantly, he turned around to face Sam and Ariel, and he slowly walked back towards them. Ariel was seated on the ground with her back against the tree with her hands tied—why did Sam even have rope in his pocket to begin with—and she was grinning up at him.

"Believe me now?" she asked.

"Yeah, fine, whatever," he said and dropped down beside her to untie her hands. He noticed that Sam hadn't bothered to really tie the knot so that it was secure, and he shot an angry glance up at his younger brother. Sam didn't seem to notice, instead staring back with his usual, calm, vulnerable face. Dean wanted to smack him. Realistically, he knew he was just mad about being made a fool of, but he didn't want to look at things realistically. He glared at Ariel as she stood up.

"How'd you get in on this job?" he asked.

"I read the papers, saw the murders, and drove over here in my handy dandy rental car," she replied, narrowing her navy blue eyes at him. "I know the tricks of the trade to figure out a job when I see one."

"Why didn't you back down when you saw that we were on it?" Sam asked. "We've been working this for two days."

"Actually, I was originally going to do just that," she said. She folded her arms across her chest and tucked a strand of dark blonde hair behind her ear. Her eyes were calm but now held a challenging element to them as she observed the young men in front of her. "But then I started following you guys around because, hey, who doesn't want the chance to watch the famous Winchester brothers work? So I started tailing you guys, but you were working a little too slow for me, and I just kind of…stepped in."

"You stepped in because you didn't think we were working fast enough?" Dean demanded.

"At the rate you two were going at, more people would've died," she snapped back. Gone was her pleasant indifference. A deeper kind of anger had taken place in her, and she stared hard at him. "I helped you guys out."

"We would've been fine on our own," Dean retorted, staring back at her. The tension was back in the air, and Sam cleared his throat to try to rid it.

"Well, uh, thank you for stepping in when you did. You're right...more people could've died," Sam said pointedly, staring at Dean as he said it. "And I'm sorry we tied you up." She shrugged and waved it off with her hand.

"Seriously, I would've done the same thing," she replied. "Hunting is a dangerous business. Can't take your chances."

"So why did you?"

"Oh, I know who you two are. You didn't know me." She tilted her head as she examined both of them, a smile on her lips. There were no traces of the anger that she'd just held moments before. "Well, it was great meeting you, but I'm going to head out now."

"Wait, you can't just go," Sam said, stepping in front of her with a frown on his face. "We can't let you run off like this."

"Trust me, I do better running off like this," Ariel replied, her blue eyes flashing as she glanced over at Dean. However, she didn't look away. She kept her eyes on him, and she looked him over, head to toe again. He noticed, but he didn't say anything, still too pissed to say anything to her.

"We're going to head back to Bobby's, anyway, and that's probably what you do in between jobs, too?" Sam's voice came out more like a question than an answer. Ariel considered what he was saying, and then she slowly nodded, her eyes returning to Dean again.

"Ok," she said with that infuriating grin. "Count me in. I'll have to, uh, transport my goods, if you know what I mean." She made a gun gesture with her hand.

"Yeah, yeah! Go ahead. We drive the—"

"Oh, I know what you drive. Every hunter knows about the Impala. I'll find you guys in the parking lot and unload there." She turned and began walking, Dean and Sam following behind.

Dean furiously gaped at Sam and made gestures behind Ariel's head as she walked in front of them. Sam shrugged and gave his wide-eyed innocent look.

"We can't just let her run off," he mouthed.

"Fuck that!" Dean mouthed back. Sam gave him a searing look, and Dean sighed again. He couldn't get Bobby's words out of his head: don't team up with her; don't spend too much time with her. He couldn't quite identify what exactly it was, but something about Ariel Easton was sending up warning signals in his brain. Dean was too much of a hunter to ignore them. Warning signals only meant bad things, and if they were sounding up in his brain at the thought of Ariel Easton, it could mean that she definitely wasn't a good thing.


	2. Trust

**Shoutouts to caz21 and Love Like I Don't Care for reviewing! Thank y'all so much for giving me some feedback.**

**Ok, there's going to be more action in the next chapter as the three start working the job. There'll also be more background on Ariel, so please let me know what you think! If you have any guesses as to what Ariel's hiding, feel free to start submitting those as well.**

**Please, please, please let me know your thoughts! If you want to see more of something, just drop it in a review or a PM (I always answer my PMs, even if I don't get back to you within 24 hours), and I'll see what I can do =)**

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Chapter 2

As much as Dean didn't want to think anything positive about Ariel Easton, he was secretly impressed by the arsenal she had in the back of her trunk. Everything that he ever could've dreamed of having was there; of course, the Winchesters were prepared and had all of the good stuff themselves, but seeing a single person with that amount of weapons and salt and holy water etc. made Dean let out a low whistle in appreciation.

"Lotta weapons here for just one person," he gruffly remarked. Despite himself, he looked up and saw her standing to the right of him, her arms folded across her chest and her eyes on him.

"Lotta monsters out there," she replied in a matter of fact tone. Seeing her up close really made Dean wish that he'd met her at another time and through different means because she actually was lovely. She was small and compact with defining angles and shaping curves in all the right places. Just from looking at her, he never would've been able to tell that she was a hunter; she didn't have the rugged, standoffish, self-sufficient air that came with hunters, particularly female hunters. She looked like someone he would've had to help. She looked like someone who had a life.

Dean couldn't help himself from comparing her to Jo. In all fairness, Jo was the only other female hunter he'd ever really known, and the two women were completely different. Ariel suggested a soft femininity that Jo didn't; Jo was all rough edges and biting remarks. Ariel was designed with soft lines and calm smiles. He didn't doubt that the biting remarks hid somewhere beneath all of that gentleness. Hell, he'd witnessed some of it himself back in the cemetery when she'd told him her reasoning for jumping in. But she was very different from Jo.

He and Sam helped Ariel transport her stuff to the back of their trunk, even though their trunk was full enough as it was. Through some miracle, however, they were able to get everything inside and get it shut. Dean kept shooting daggers at Sam, still furious with him for inviting Ariel to just join them like that. Whose car was this, anyway? And who the hell did Sam think he was, just throwing around offers to random people to ride in his car all the way from Pennsylvania to North Dakota? He didn't trust this Ariel chick, and he could tell that she didn't trust him either from the way she continued to stare at him with no shame or embarrassment behind it.

"Alright, that's about it. What are you gonna do about the rental car?" Sam asked. An impish grin crossed Ariel's bright face.

"Well, it's not so much a rental car that you return to a rental car place as much as a rental car that you just happen upon," she said.

"Great, one more criminal on board," Dean muttered. Sam elected to ignore him.

"Dean, you ready to head out?" he asked as he shut the lid of the Impala's trunk.

"Yeah, it's about time. We're getting a much later start than I thought," Dean replied pointedly. He could feel Sam shoot him a look, but he ignored it.

"Hope you like classic rock because that's all Dean likes," Sam muttered to Ariel as he slipped into the passenger seat. Ariel climbed into the backseat but didn't buckle her seatbelt. She watched Dean take control over the driver's seat, and she moved so that she could sit in between the two men. If anything, this was a strange moment of chance for her. All hunters knew who the Winchesters were. That was a fact. You couldn't be a hunter and not hear the name Winchester get thrown around as easily as a celebrity's name was amongst non-hunters. Ariel was damn good at her own game, but she was still curious to be around these two men who had such reputations as they did.

She'd been honest when she'd told them that she'd originally planned on backing off. She really had meant to. She'd just followed behind them, watching how they worked and how they got the job done; she'd been using it as a learning experience. All hunters could benefit from watching good hunting. She just had felt the need to step in when they were taking so long. Ariel's first and foremost rule about hunting was that she saved people. She didn't have a partner because partners made doing the job more tricky. All it meant was that you had one more person to protect, one more person to rely on. Ariel didn't want that. She didn't _need_ that. Sure, it would've been nice to have someone to watch her own back, but she didn't need it, and if she didn't need it, she could live without it.

So when the Winchesters hadn't moved as quickly as she felt that they could've, she'd taken matters into her own hands. She could tell that Dean was still pissed off about it. Every time he looked at her, the expression on his face hardened, and he got that annoyed look across his forehead. Sam was a lot more forgiving, she could tell. She'd always heard that he was the more sensitive out of the two brothers, anyway. After her experience with them today, she could definitely agree with that.

"Have you always worked alone?" Sam asked, turning back in his seat to face her. She shook her head, her short blonde hair brushing lightly against her ear.

"No, I had a partner for a few years, but that was when I realized I liked to work alone," she replied smoothly, ignoring the pang of anguish that threatened her heart. Her voice didn't betray a single thing she was feeling underneath it all. Yes, she knew from experience that partners made jobs harder to do. She unfortunately knew from experience. Swallowing hard, she kept her gaze level with Sam's, trying to keep a pleasant look on her face so as not to have to talk about it if Sam noticed anything lying underneath it all.

"I just…I can't believe we've never heard of you at all," Sam remarked with a puzzled smile. She found herself smiling back at him and offering him one of her little half-shrugs.

"I like to keep a low profile," she answered.

"Yeah, Bobby said that, too," Dean spoke up from the driver's seat. Her blue eyes turned to look at him, but he refused to look back at her. She could tell from his tone that he was challenging her, and if she listened hard enough, she could detect a little bit of accusation coming from him. Dean Winchester certainly wasn't known for being friendly, she knew.

"I do. It keeps things cleaner," she replied breezily.

"Cleaner?" Dean repeated, again not looking at her in the mirror.

"Yeah. Cleaner." She didn't elaborate. She saw Sam turn to give Dean another pointed look, but then he turned back and smiled politely at her.

"You'll have to forgive my older brother. He seems to lose all concept of manners when he's pitching a tantrum," he said innocently.

"Goddammit, Sam," Dean snapped. "I'm not pitching a fucking tantrum. I'm just not that thrilled that you invited someone we don't even know to ride in _my_ baby after she stole our fucking jobs."

"Dean, she was doing it for the better purpose—"

"Whatever, Sammy."

"Anyway, Ariel, how do you know Bobby?"

"I was in a bit of a bind with a banshee in Wisconsin about two years ago, and he helped me out," Ariel said briefly. She tried to keep her explanations as brief as possible, particularly when it came to her connections. She knew she was being vague, but she knew that any chance the Winchesters had of keeping her at arm's length, they would. Sam looked thoughtful, tilting his head to the side, and then he shrugged before glancing out the window so she couldn't see his face.

"What got you into hunting?" Dean asked suddenly.

"Ask me again in three months," Ariel shot back without a moment's pause. Through the rearview mirror, she saw his eyebrows raise, but he didn't say anything else. "I'm sorry about your dad, by the way."

That did the trick. Dean's green eyes lifted into the rearview mirror, and they met her dark blue ones. A whirl of emotions ran across the handsome man's face, but he didn't still didn't say anything. His eyebrows drew further together, and his lips pressed together in a straight line. He flicked his eyes back to the road but didn't lose the expression on his face. A small twinge of guilt flamed in the bottom of Ariel's solar plexus. Her condolences had been genuine—Jesus, she of all people knew what it was like to lose family, so she knew better than to rub salt in the wounds—but yet she'd only seemed to upset Dean even more.

"Thanks. Did you know him?" Sam asked. He was looking directly at her. One thing Ariel already appreciated about the Winchesters was their eye contact; she got so tired of working with people who didn't give eye contact. That was how she could tell if she could trust them fully or not at all.

"I met him once a while back. Shortly before the banshee incident, actually," she said. Sam raised his eyebrows in contemplative thought and nodded, but she could see that his mind was already miles away from the car. He turned around to face forward, and she lost herself to the rhythm of the Impala as it rolled along down the road.

* * *

An hour later, Sam's phone rang. He pulled it out and saw the Caller ID. Bobby. He shouldn't be surprised; the only people to call his cell phone were Bobby and Dean. Clicking the appropriate button, he put the phone up to his ear and answered.

"Hello?"

"Sam, where are you guys right now?"

"Somewhere in Ohio, I think. Why? You got a job for us?"

"Plymouth, Indiana. Random killings all over the place. My first thought is demons, but if you and Dean wanted to make a swing through, you could get 'em," Bobby said.

"Anything on Yellow Eyes?" Sam asked. He knew that he had Dean's attention, even if Dean didn't look over at him. Glancing in the side mirror by his door, he saw that Ariel was asleep in the backseat, so he didn't have to worry about her listening in on his conversation with Bobby. Talking about Yellow Eyes wasn't something he wanted to do in front of her when he'd just met her. He rarely liked to admit when Dean was right, but Dean had had a point about the fact that they barely knew Ariel Easton. Bobby said that she was credible, and Sam trusted Bobby about as much as he trusted Dean, but he'd hunted enough in his lifetime to know that people surprised you, and sometimes it wasn't always a good surprise.

"No. Nothing. Have any of your visions recently?" Bobby asked in return.

"No, thankfully. Hey, by the way, we have the girl who interrupted our job. Ariel Easton. She's in the car with us," Sam said, suddenly remembering that Bobby was still out of the loop on it.

"She's what? You have her in the goddamn car with you?" Bobby demanded. Frowning, Sam looked in the side mirror again, and yes, Ariel was still there, her eyes still closed, and her breathing still slow.

"Yes, Bobby, she was going to head back here, anyway, and we thought we'd give her a lift."

"Ya idjit, what'd you do that for?" Bobby snapped. The frown deepened across Sam's forehead.

"Should we not have? I thought—"

"Never mind it. She's in the car with you now, but as soon as you get her here, ditch her. You don't need to spend more than a certain amount of time with that girl. Like I told Dean: she's brilliant, but she's got a lot that comes with her."

"Bobby, I don't understand."

"You heard me, Sam. Tell Dean about Plymouth. Actually, Ariel'll be a good person to have along if it's demons. She's always been good at handling them. Doesn't lose her cool so easily."

"Um, ok. I'll tell Dean, and we'll swing through there." Sam hung up. "Plymouth, Indiana. Bobby thinks it could be a bunch of demons who've been ganking people."

"Woohoo, another job!" Dean crowed half-sarcastically, half-genuinely. "He mention anything about Yellow Eyes?"

"No, still nothing." Sam watched Dean glance back at Ariel in the backseat. She was still fast asleep, curled up across the length of the physical seat with her arm curled up beneath her head as a pillow. Dean noticed how she seemed to fit perfectly back there without needing any extra space. Sam was always a bitch about sleeping in the backseat because it was too cramped for his long legs. Truth be told, it was too cramped for even Dean to sleep in the backseat. But for Ariel, it was the right length. She looked comfortable, and she looked as though she were getting a nice rest. A flash of irritation passed over Dean. He was losing his bad mood, but he didn't want to. He was just in one of those moods where he wanted to brood, and brooding over this intruder seemed like the most logical thing to be subjecting to his mood.

* * *

_It was dark. Ariel looked around the empty warehouse, her eyes adjusting to the darkness surrounding her. She grasped the shotgun in her hand more tightly as she slowly and quietly stepped forward. Her senses were on hyper alert. She needed to find Elliot, and she needed to find him fast. The blood she'd found outside the old warehouse—why did it always have to be a warehouse—hadn't been promising. Even though she couldn't say for sure that the blood had belonged to Elliot, she was fairly certain that it had._

_"Elliot?" she called out. If this were a trap, they would already know that she was here, so she might as well try. Besides, if he were awake, he'd hear her, and he might be able to give her some kind of signal as to where he was. Nothing answered her, but she felt that she was being watched. A tingling crept on the back of her neck, and she whirled around, ready to shoot her gun at whatever was threatening to attack her, but there was nothing behind her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins; she was rarely frightened when she was hunting, but this was different. Not only was she hunting, but she was being hunted. And she was being hunted by something more dangerous than anything she'd ever faced in her life._

_"Elliot, where are you?" she called. A scuffle off to the left of her had her swinging her gun around to face it. Again, nothing. But she knew better. She knew better than to assume that she was alone in this warehouse. Elliot was in here, and they were in here, too, watching her and enjoying baiting her._

_"Elli—" A swing across the back of her head stopped her words, and she lost consciousness._

* * *

Ariel woke up with a gasp in the backseat of the Impala to the sound of blasting music. Lying still, she tried to catch her breath and still her wildly thumping heart. She could hear someone saying something, but she couldn't quite make out the words. The panic and the fear was still with her, imprinting obviously against her skin as she met Dean's frown from the front seat.

"You ok?" he asked, his voice still gruff and annoyed.

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine. I'm a restless sleeper," she replied with a half-grin. He turned the music down on the radio and glanced over her once. It didn't escape her notice, and had she not been so panicked and upset from her dream, she would've called him on it. His green eyes met hers again, and she swallowed hard.

"Um, ok. Well, perfect timing. Sammy's inside getting us two rooms for the night. Bobby called and told us about some possible demons in Plymouth, Indiana, so…tada," he finished lamely. Ariel sat up quickly and looked towards the motel that they were parked in front of, frowning as she did so.

"You don't have to get two rooms. This isn't elementary school where we can't have co-ed sleepovers. I've shared rooms with men more often in my life than not," she remarked. Dean's eyebrows raised, and she caught what he was inferring and rolled her eyes.

"Please, I'm a hunter," she said. "Besides, don't go looking all innocent and virginal on me now. Your reputation in the bedroom is just as prevalent as your reputation as a hunter."

Her cool gaze caught Dean off guard, and he found himself getting annoyed again. Though he wasn't sure if he were more annoyed with himself or with her. When she'd woken up in a panic, he'd almost felt bad for her, and he'd wanted to make her feel better. Even though she'd denied anything being wrong, he knew better than that. Dean Winchester had had his share of nightmares in his life, and he knew what it was like to wake up nearly dead with fear. He couldn't help wondering what she'd seen in her unconscious state that had left her so terrified that she could barely catch her breath. He decided not to let the annoyance show, and he shot her one of his infamous grins.

"Yeah, what do they say about me?" he asked, his voice low and teasing but also full of unspoken promises. He was only half-surprised when she continued to blink coolly at him, seemingly unaware of the seductive tone of his voice.

"Well, just don't think so highly of yourself," she responded easily. "I'm gonna go see if I can stop Sam from getting both rooms."

Without another word, she'd leapt out of the Impala and left Dean to his thoughts. As she walked into the motel, he let out an audible irritated groan and leaned his head against the headrest. She hadn't been with the Winchesters for 24 hours yet, and he was already letting her get under his skin. For Christ's sake, she hadn't even been awake for most of the time. Sam had pointed out that as a lone hunter, she probably didn't get that much sleep and was catching up on it, and they'd be doing her a favor by letting her get that sleep. Dean had felt obligated to agree.

Still, there was just something about her that made him want to scratch his skin off. And that wasn't a good thing.

Ariel caught sight of Sam up at the register, his card in his hand. She jogged up to him.

"Hey!" she called, careful to avoid using his name since he was undoubtedly using an alias. "Hey, don't bother getting me my own room. I'll be fine sleeping in the same room with you guys. We're mature adults, aren't we?" She smiled at him. He tossed his head back to get some of his long hair out of his eyes, and he grinned down at her. She felt as though she were only two feet tall compared to him; she hadn't actually realized how tall he was until now.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable in any way, Lindsay," he said. She caught onto the alias that he'd given her just then, and she nodded to say that she understood what he was doing and to also say that she wasn't uncomfortable.

"No, not at all. No sense in spending the extra money," she said. "I'll be out in the car to help bring stuff in." She was careful to avoid using Dean's name, and he nodded back at her, understanding in his warm hazel eyes.

She turned back and walked out to the car. As she returned, she could see Dean glowering out the windshield at her as she walked back to him. She paused by his window, and he stared at her. She stared back. Nothing happened. Releasing a sigh, she gestured for him to roll his window down.

"This a damn staring contest?" he shot irritably at her.

"I thought it was common knowledge to just roll the window down," she answered. "Sam got the room. He's calling me Lindsay."

Dean shut the car off, and she opened the backseat door to get her large duffel bag out of the backseat floorboard. She felt Dean come stand behind her, and she was suddenly self-conscious of the angle at which he was looking at her. Suddenly, a wicked thought came to her mind. She knew she made him uncomfortable; it was plain to see. He'd been uncomfortable around her ever since he'd laid eyes on her—hell, he'd been uncomfortable with her before he'd even fucking seen her. And honestly, Ariel had to admit that she enjoyed making him uncomfortable. So she grabbed her bag and backed up until she was out of the car. She'd spaced it just right so that she was right up against him, only two inches between their torsos.

Silence passed between the two, and she looked up at him, her blue eyes meeting his green ones. She'd never seen anyone with eyes that green before, she thought as she looked up at him. Her wicked plan had worked because she could see him feeling very uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly as he tried to think of something to do or say. There was nowhere for him to go, either, since she'd backed him up into the car parked next to them. His eyebrows only pressed further together—if that were even possible since he always seemed to be frowning—and he swallowed visibly.

"What?" she asked. Her voice was just the right tone, not too innocent but not too biting. Hauling her bag over her shoulder, she reached up with her free hand and tucked some loose blonde hair back behind her ear, knowing the kind of reaction that one simple gesture would get. It was long enough so that it occasionally fell into her face, but it was barely long enough for a ponytail. If she tried hard enough, she could get it into a teeny tiny ponytail that usually wound up falling loose within half an hour of pulling it back. She noticed his jaw muscle tensed the slightest bit.

Heat radiated between the two of them, and she was surprised to find herself wanting to close the distance between them. Ariel wasn't oblivious to good looks, and that definitely applied to Dean Winchester. He was damn good looking, and she was more than aware of it, but he was a hunter, and so was she. Hunters could never find relationships, and that was an unarguable fact of the life she lead. Not that she'd even be interested in Dean Winchester for anything more than a one night stand. Word spread quickly amongst the hunting world, and she'd heard all about how hot headed and impulsive he was, how his loyalty and dependence on his brother would be his downfall. Dean was the last person in the world she'd ever consider something serious with, but she had to admit that he was handsome, and she loved making him uncomfortable.

"Nothing," he replied shortly. "You gonna move out of my way, or am I gonna have to physically move you to get my shit?"

"Didn't your dad teach you to never hit a lady?" she quipped smoothly in response, but she moved out of the way. He leaned past her and bent over into the car to retrieve his own bags. As he bent over, she quickly took a moment to appreciate how his ass looked in his jeans. Yep. He passed her approval. When he stood back up, she saw that he had Sam's bag thrown over his shoulder as well.

"My dad was all about equality," he answered in that same short tone. "Come on. Sam's waiting."

He turned and walked into the motel, his irritation having reached the boiling level. He didn't know Ariel Easton at all, but he was sure that that little stunt she'd pulled back there with getting her bag had been on purpose, and all that'd done was piss him off. He could feel her walking behind him, her tread soft and light and feminine—was it even possible for one's tread to be feminine, he wondered. He walked through the doors and into the lobby where he found Sam waiting for the both of them.

They approached him and silently went to their room. Ariel took notice of the fact that they'd gotten the room that was easiest to escape from, and she found that she could breathe a little easier.

"What's the sitch?" she asked as soon as the door was closed and locked. Dean turned to face her, looking perplexed.

"Did you really just quote _Kim Possible_?" he asked. She nodded.

"Yeah, it was a good show," she replied. "Girl kicks ass, beats the bad guys. It was great."

"Huh, I guess we never got to watch it since we were too busy hunting," he said back with a certain challenging tone to it. She rolled her eyes and sat down on one of the beds.

"What's the job?" she rephrased. "The sooner we take care of it, the sooner we get to Bobby's."

"And the sooner we can all go our separate ways," Dean interjected.

"Really, Dean? We've been in the car for God knows how long. We're all exhausted. Can you not?" Sam snapped, pushing a hand back through his hair. The light in the room was low, and Ariel caught both of their profiles, noticing how different they actually were physically. Sam's nose was longer and more pointed at the end while Dean had more of a solid, sturdiness about his own nose. His profile was also a lot more solid, more chiseled and defined than Sam's. She found that she was staring at Dean's much longer than she'd intended to, and she cleared her throat as discreetly as she could before turning her attention back to Sam.

Inside, she was scolding herself for acting like a cliché high school kid. Clearing her throat because she was uncomfortable with noticing how long she'd been staring at a hot guy? Definitely a high school movie thing, and she hated herself for being so cliché. But she wasn't able to deny that Dean's profile was just as appealing as the full frontal part of his face was.

"Whatever," Dean sniped back. He stood over by the small cough and coffee table, refusing to come any closer to the female hunter. Sam sighed and sat down on the other bed.

"Alright then, moving on," he said, not looking at Dean. "I picked up the paper in the lobby, and it turns out that there've been random killings all over town. One was a local veterinarian, another was a librarian, and the other was a young college student. All female. All single and living with a roommate. I thought tomorrow we'd start down at the police station, the morgue, and then questioning the victims' families."

Ariel absorbed everything the younger Winchester was saying, and she nodded, her mind racing thirty miles an hour as she thought of every possible way to go about the job in the quickest, most efficient way possible. Her goal was to keep as many people alive as possible, and that meant moving quickly. She also needed to move quickly before they caught up with her. A flash of anger crossed over her as she remembered her dream, but she pushed it out of her head. She couldn't think about that when she was about to start a job. She needed to be focused, especially since she was working with the Winchesters. Even though she had a stellar reputation as a hunter, she didn't want to fall short of anything the Winchesters may have heard from Bobby. She was surprised to find that she did, in fact, want to impress them and show them that she was just as good at her job as they were.

She also felt the stirrings of anxiety beginning to twist around in her stomach. There was a reason that she was a solo hunter, and teaming up with the Winchesters for this job meant that she'd be working with other people for the first time in about three or so years. It was an uncomfortable realization, and she was hesitant to jump into the fire with them, but she didn't have a choice. They'd made the decision to take the job without consulting her, and really, even if they'd asked if she'd wanted to do the job, she probably would've said yes. She couldn't turn away from saving people. The conflict began deep in her chest; she was going to be working with other hunters, and that meant having to watch out for them in addition to herself, but she was also going to be putting an end to these terrible killings in the town.

She looked up and met Sam's hazel eyes, only to see that he was staring at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, sounds good to me," she said and nodded in confirmation.

"I'm surprised you're not wanting to take over since we work so slowly," Dean scoffed. Her blue eyes shot over to him, and she tilted her head as she considered him.

"I thought I might as well do things the Winchester way," she responded calmly. Her eyes were shooting daggers, but her voice was calm and gave nothing away. "You're basically giving me a ride to Bobby's. Besides, I might learn something from the way you two do things. Well, if you both don't mind, I'm going to go grab a shower."

She stood up and grabbed her duffel bag, hauling it off to the tiny bathroom that she was supposed to share with the two men. Her blood was fuming as she locked the door behind her, but she forced herself to breathe slowly and let the anger leave her body. Dean was just as good as pushing her buttons as she seemed to be at pressing his. Leaning forward, she turned on the shower and released a slow exhale of breath. It was going to be a long few days.

* * *

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Sam snapped, standing up and crossing the room as soon as he heard the shower turning on in the bathroom. Dean crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, raising his eyebrows innocently.

"Nothing. I don't trust her," he said simply. "Something isn't right with her."

"You don't have to be rude. For fuck's sake, can you just do the job and not attack her? The _demons_ are the bad guys. Not her," Sam responded, crossing his own arms in return. Dean narrowed his eyes at his younger brother.

"Then why does Bobby say that we shouldn't hang around with her? Why's he so anxious for us to ditch her?" he retorted. Sam's mouth softened in defeat at Dean's questions, and he ran a hand through his hair again, releasing a sigh.

"I don't know," he responded. "It's got me worried, too, but we're not going to get anywhere if you keep attacking her like that."

"Something isn't right, Sammy, I'm telling you. Ariel Easton has got something she's not telling us. My gut's telling me that, and my instincts are always right. Goddammit, Dad taught us that if we feel like something's wrong, it _is_ wrong. This feels wrong," Dean pressed angrily. "I don't trust her, Sammy."

"Ok, yeah, I admit that something seems off, and I don't trust her fully, but we could use the help on this job. Bobby says she's one of the best hunters in the business, and he didn't say that we couldn't have her around at all, so that's got to say something. If Bobby trusts her, surely we can, too," Sam said, attempting to sound convincing. He sounded more as if he were trying to convince himself than to convince Dean of anything. Dean started pacing back and forth between the coffee table.

"I don't think it's trust if he says we shouldn't get caught up with her," he answered, feeling more calmed down by now.

"Can we just do the job right now? We'll both keep our guard up, and if anything happens, we'll be ready. But in the meantime, can you just stop giving her shit? Bobby also said that she'd be a good person to have on our side, and so far, you're not doing a very good job of convincing her that she should be on our side. If we find Yellow Eyes and need another person, we might be able to count on her to help us," Sam said. Dean sighed for the thousandth time that day. Sam was right, unfortunately, and he hated when Sam was right.

"Fine," he said. "I'll play nice. But I'm calling second shower as soon as she's done."

Sam held up his hands in acquiescence. Turning back to the couch, Dean sat and propped his feet up. If he were going to play nice with Ariel, he just had to try to ignore what his gut was telling him. He could do it. Well, he was at least going to try to. The tension that'd been hanging in the room between the brothers had evaporated like fallen rain, and it was back to that familiar comfortable feeling between the two. He glanced ruefully at the empty bed and then at the couch. One of them was going to have to take the couch, and he had the strangest suspicion that he was going to wind up being the one to pull the short straw. He knew he deserved it; he was willing to admit that he'd been a total shit to Ariel since they'd run into her, and deep down, he was feeling a bit guilty.

He hadn't meant to be so shitty to her once they'd gotten in the room. The thing was, every time he looked at her, he couldn't help but remember the heat that had come from standing so close to her body.


	3. Warning

**Shoutout to tigereyekum for reviewing!**

**Alrighty, y'all, here's Chapter 3! I had a request to do more conversation and less thinking business, so I tried to include that as well. I tend to do a lot of thinking bits because I love doing character development before I really get to the heart of things, but there's definitely more conversation going on in this chapter. There still isn't a lot of fighting bad guys just yet in this chapter, but I'm thinking that next chapter should bring more of that action. Stick with it, and I promise there will be fighting, and I promise that there will be more sexual tension growing between Ariel and Dean ;)**

**Also, I'm completely making up the demon ritual in this. I'm not pulling it from anywhere, so anything like that is completely from my own imagination.**

**Please, please, please leave your thoughts and opinions because they're SO helpful. I mean, reviews are always a good Christmas gift ;) Be safe, and enjoy your holidays, y'all!**

* * *

Chapter 3

So far, every piece of evidence had turned to point towards demons, just like Bobby had theorized. Dean, Sam, and Ariel were at lunch in a tiny diner in the middle of town as they discussed everything they'd come across so far.

"So the roommates are arrested for killing them, but they don't remember what's happened. It's demons. It's possession," Ariel confirmed as she bit into the remaining bits of her bacon burger. She was dressed in a black pencil skirt with a burgundy blouse and a black blazer on top of it, all paired off with black, professional heels. She looked every ounce the FBI agent that she was claiming to be, according to the fake FBI ID in her inside jacket pocket. She also looked very good, Dean thought over his triple cheeseburger.

He'd been right about the fact that he'd have to crash on the couch the night before. He hadn't even waited to be asked to take the couch; he'd just done it, though he'd done it more out of guilt than of chivalry. The rest of the night had passed civilly enough, and so far, he'd managed to keep from snapping Ariel's head off throughout the day, but her presence just bugged him, and he couldn't tell why.

"Now we can head over to the victims' places and check for sulfur," Sam continued. "The only thing we're really missing is motive. What do demons want with a librarian, a college student, and a veterinarian?"

"Most importantly, how do we stop them before they attack the next person?" Dean countered, taking another bite of his enormous cheeseburger.

"There's got to be something else in common. Something that we're missing," Sam said. He'd gotten a chicken salad wrap, but he wasn't touching very much of it, instead opting to down all the coffee that he possibly could. Ariel was quiet as she thought about the job. Demons were killing single young women who lived with their roommates. There was nothing else in common between the three women than what Sam had said; not all of them went to church, they didn't have mutual friends, and they just didn't have anything else in common aside from that. But there was something lying underneath the job that was slamming her hard in her brain. The answer seemed like it should be right in front of her.

It hadn't escaped her notice that she'd slipped into an easy camaraderie with the Winchesters. She'd only been with them for maybe 24 hours at most, and she was already getting used to their working habits and their ways of getting things done. It made her uncomfortable to realize it, especially the fact that she enjoyed working with them. It was nice to have other people working with her, sharing their ideas and discussing what they were going to do next. There was definitely something different about working with people, particularly when those people were the Winchesters. Still, there was an underlying anxiety that seemed to permeate her brain with every passing hour that she was with the two brothers. She'd been checking over her shoulder repeatedly since she was with them, half-expecting to see what she was running from. So far, nothing.

"We might as well wrap on up and head over to the first house together," Dean said, swallowing his last bite of his burger. "Sammy, you have the address?"

"Yeah, I've got it," Sam replied as he stood to go pay the bill.

"Hey, here," Ariel said suddenly. She pulled out her credit card and handed it to Sam. "You guys got the hotel room. I'll get this."

"Please, it's not as if it's really our money," Sam answered with an eye roll, but he took her card anyway. She watched him walk off to go pay, and she turned forward, facing Dean. She could tell that he was purposely not looking at her by the way he stared too hard at his plate. He'd barely said anything at all to her since she'd gone to take her shower last night, most of his comments having been directed towards Sam.

"You're in a better mood this morning. Take your happy pills?" she asked casually. Finally, he looked up at her with those piercing green eyes. He wasn't glaring, and that was probably the part that caught Ariel off guard the most. It was probably the first time that he'd looked at her since they found her yesterday that he'd looked at her like a normal person.

"Yeah, well, someone's got to be the ray of sunshine around here," he replied just as casually.

"I can see that you're well suited for the job," she said with a hint of a smirk. She should've felt bad for trying to provoke him, but she couldn't stop the words before they came out of her mouth. He just took everything too seriously, and it amused her too much to see him get so mad over the littlest things. Yeah, it'd been a dick move to step in his and Sam's job, but someone had needed to do it. She would be damned if anyone got hurt because these two moved too slowly.

"Since you won't tell us why you got into hunting, how long have you been hunting?" Dean asked suddenly, completely changing the subject. Ariel didn't stop the expression of surprise from crossing her face. She'd expected some kind of sharp rebuttal from him, but instead she'd gotten a question about her past.

"Oh. Um, probably since I was 12. I'm 25 now, so I've been at it for 13 years," she answered with a careful tone to her voice. She was always careful about talking about her past. Thinking about the past and sharing it with people was tricky because anything painful could be used against her. Her life as a hunter had taught her that much, and it'd probably been the most valuable lesson she'd learned.

"Huh. Cool," Dean answered. It was obvious that he didn't know what to say in response to it other than that. Ariel supposed that this was where she was supposed to ask something in return, so she did. She let the question fall out before she could think about whether she should ask it or not.

"Do you like what you do?" she asked. His green eyes looked puzzled as he gazed steadily at her, and he didn't say anything for a few moments. Ariel prepared herself for some kind of blow up from him or an insult, but she didn't get that. On the contrary. In fact, he suddenly smiled, and it changed his face completely. It wasn't a smile that quite reached his eyes to light up his face, but it was a smile nonetheless. He looked a thousand years younger, and it made his handsome face even more appealing.

"A bit deep for lunch, don't you think?" he asked. There was no animosity in his voice, just pure questioning. Ariel found herself smiling back.

"Touche," she answered. At that moment, Sam was back at the table, reaching out to Ariel with her credit card in his hand.

"Here you are. Alright, let's go. We've got three places to go check out," he said. Ariel frowned as she stood up and began following Sam out the door of the diner, Dean hot on her tail.

"If sulfur shows up at one place, don't you think sulfur will show up at all?" she asked. "It's wasting time to go check all three places to find sulfur. The killings are all alike, so I think it's safe to say that if there's sulfur at one place, there'll be sulfur in the other two places."

"There's no reason we can't check all three. It's better to be safe than sorry," Dean said. They'd reached the car, and Ariel found herself getting irritated with him. She pulled herself up to her full height, and she shook her head, pressing her lips into a firm line.

"It's better to save people than to lose them," she said. "You know that if we find signs of a demon in one place, we'll find the same signs in all the others. We're wasting time, and that time is precious when it comes to saving people's lives. We need to be figuring out where the demons will be striking next."

"Our dad taught us to be thorough. He always said to never assume anything," Sam spoke up, a diplomatic tone edging into his voice. Ariel kept herself from lashing out. She actually liked Sam, and she didn't want to say anything that might piss him off. Dean, she thought with a hard glance his way, she didn't give a shit about. This was where working with partners got tricky, particularly because these partners weren't following her lead. If anything, she was following _their_ lead, and she was getting her first taste of feeling that they should do something different than what Sam and Dean had planned.

"I just think it's a waste of time," she said, shrugging her shoulders in annoyed defeat and yanking on the car door handle to open. When she found it still locked, she glared at Dean, who only stared calmly back at her to give her a piece of her own medicine.

"Again. Wasting time," she repeated, and then he unlocked the door. _Piece of shit_, she thought as she pulled the door open and got in.

* * *

As soon as Sam, Dean, and Ariel had set foot in the apartment of Sarah Evans, the librarian, the smell of sulfur hit them so powerfully that they all took a step back together.

"Well, shit," Ariel said out loud, surveying the room around her. She looked over at Dean and saw his face squinched up as he inhaled the smell of the sulfur. "You guys ever face anything that smelled this strong before?"

"Unless it was dead, no," Sam replied, making a similar face to Dean. A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Ariel's mouth as she saw the similarity between him and his older brother. Just by looking at the two, she never would've been able to tell that they were related. But after having spent some time with them, observing them and looking at them, she was able to see that their mannerisms were very similar, often mirroring each other.

She cast her eyes back on Dean and found him staring intently at her. Instead of looking away, she held his gaze.

"What?" she asked. Blinking, he shook his head.

"Nothing," he answered. Ariel had deja vouz back to the car last night when she'd stood so close to him she'd been able to practically feel him breathing. Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, she looked away from him and continued to look around the room. There were pictures all over the place, but she didn't take the time to look at them. Why look at these pictures to see the victim? Why get to know her and mourn her for the life she'd never get to have? Why mourn the way that she'd died?

"Hey, check this out," Sam called over his shoulder. He was standing by the window and pointing at something on the ground. Ariel and Dean hurried over to him and looked at the spot. Large amounts of yellow powder behind the curtain. She knelt down and reached her hand out when it collided with Dean's. She turned her head to look at the fellow hunter, also crouched down beside her. His face was close to hers, and she was amazed to see how brightly his green eyes shone in the sunlight that came through the window. Dean was frowning at her—as usual—but the way that he was looking at her was different.

They were both frozen for a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. Again, Ariel was so close to him that she could almost feel him breathing. This time was different, though. Her face was close to him. Not just her body. His face was only inches away from hers, and for her, that was just several inches too close for physical comfort. Pulling her hand back, she gave him a smirk.

"All yours," she said. He jerked his head back in confusion as the frown drew his face down even more.

"What?" he asked, scanning over her entire body at her words. She lifted her light brown eyebrows at him and nodded her head towards the sulfur.

"It's all yours," she repeated and stood up. Sam didn't seem to be paying any special attention to the encounter that they'd just had, and she was grateful for it. Quickly, she backed away from Dean and let him feel the powder and bring it up to his nose. He sniffed it and made that same squinched up expression he'd made as soon as he'd walked in the door. A slight cough escaped from his lips, and he stood up, wiping his hands to rid them of the powder.

"Yep. Sulfur," he confirmed. "You'd think this place would've exploded by now there's so damn much over here by the window."

"Think that's how the son of a bitch got in?" Sam asked. Dean nodded and glanced back towards the area reproachfully, as if it were to blame for the whole thing.

"Yeah, that'd explain it. Come on. We need to hit the other victims' places while it's still daylight," he said and began heading for the door. Ariel began to follow after him with Sam behind her when she stopped suddenly. She knew why she felt as though she should know the answer to the case. This whole job seemed familiar, as if she'd read about it before. It wasn't one that she'd worked before because she remembered every single job she'd ever done, but she'd heard about one just like this.

"Wait, wait, wait," she said. Dean stopped and turned to look back at her.

"What?" he asked.

"This is familiar," she said. "I know I've heard of a case similar to this. All women, all single, all with roommates. I _know_ I've read about this or talked with someone about it. Goddammit, it's killing me—it's on the tip of my tongue."

"Do you remember what it could be? Does it have anything to do with…any particular demons?" Sam asked, his voice trying not to give away the question he was really asking. He ignored the daggers that Dean shot his way.

"Fuck, why don't I know this? Dean, can you take me back to the motel? I'll work there. You and Sam can go to the other apartments if you really insist on checking them, too, but I've got to make a few calls around to some of my connections. Someone will recognize this," Ariel said. Dean's eyes widened, and he shook his head.

"Uhn uhn. I'm not leaving you alone with my stuff," he said matter of factly. Ariel narrowed her navy blue eyes at him and advanced towards him.

"What part of 'people are going to fucking die' do you not understand?" she hissed, her attack coming out of nowhere, her words pinning him to his place in the floor with their force. "If you don't trust me, leave Sam with me while you go check out the other places. Christ, if you really insist on it, _you_ stay with me to make sure I don't do anything shady while _Sam_ goes to look at the other apartments. I know I have a lead on this. I _know_ it."

Dean saw the anger smoldering in the depths of her eyes, and he considered fighting back. But he knew that if he fought back, he'd be doing it only to spite her and not because he actually thought it'd be best for the job. Gritting his teeth together, he tossed a glance in Sam's direction.

"I'm going back to the motel with her," he snapped. Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Wow. Ok. Sure, yeah, I'll go check out the other places," he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. Dean stalked the rest of the way down the stairs and towards the Impala, fuming as he did so. Shocking Sam, he tossed his brother the keys and got in on the passenger's side. Ariel climbed into the backseat, and with one check in the side view mirror, he could see that she was sitting directly behind him.

* * *

Dean was more than happy to sit back and relax in the motel bed and let Sam go off and demon-check the other apartments. As soon as he was in the door of the room, he kicked his shoes off and basically waltzed over to one of the beds and belly flopped onto it. Ariel was moving around in the room behind him. He could hear rustles of paper and the beeping of her phone.

"Hey, that's my bed," she sharply said, tilting her mouth away from the phone to speak to him. Dean didn't even give her the time of day to look at her.

"Newton, it's Ariel. I'm working a job right now that I could use a second opinion on. Call me back as soon as possible."

He listened to her make a few more calls and leave a few more voicemails before she finally heaved an angry, frustrated sigh.

"Dammit!" she shouted. "The problem with hunters is that they never fucking answer their phones."

"Maybe they do. It's just you they don't answer for," Dean replied lightly from the bed.

"I've saved these guys' asses more than once. They'd answer for me," she shot back. Dean flipped his head to the other side so he could look at her. She ran a hand through her hair and sat down hard on the couch, as if the energy had completely been drained from her entire body. Her navy blue eyes flicked over to his, and he saw her face harden.

"You're going to wrinkle your suit," she said, the rebuke strong in her voice.

"As if I give a shit," Dean said back.

"You're a child, you know that?"

"Oo, aren't we tough, pulling out the name calling." He sat up and smirked at her, leaning back into the pillows with a smug expression on his face. Ariel wanted to go slap it off his face, but she didn't. She wouldn't stoop down to having the same kind of impulses that he did.

"To answer your question from earlier, I don't enjoy the job," he continued. The look of subdued shock on her face confirmed the fact that he'd surprised her twice in one day. He folded his hands across his lower abdomen casually, as if he were discussing anything in the world with her but hunting. "I mean, how could anyone _like_ the job?"

"I like aspects of it," she answered slowly. He raised his eyebrows and gave a light shrug of acceptance.

"Yeah, the whole 'saving people' thing you were going on about," he said dismissively. A dark look flashed across Ariel's eyes.

"What are you in it for if it's not to save people?" she retorted. His face sobered up, and he stared her dead straight in the eye, no funny business written in his green eyes.

"I'm in it to avenge someone I love," he replied. Ariel was quiet. She didn't say anything for a few moments, but Dean didn't miss how she seemed to fold in on herself. Her legs folded up beneath her, and she tucked a strand of her dark blonde hair behind her ear. She wasn't looking at him, but he didn't need to see her eyes to know that she was reflecting on someone she'd loved as well. Hunters lost people they loved: another inevitable fact of the life they were stuck in.

"I guess that's a good enough reason," she finally answered. They both sat in silence for a few moments, not sure of what to say. Ariel felt the awkward tension in the room, and she stole a glance at Dean. He was pretending to gaze at something on the wall, trying hard to look fascinated with it but was failing. She awkwardly cleared her throat.

"You don't like me very much, do you?" she asked. Dean raised his eyebrows in shock and sat upright on the bed at her question. A small cough escaped him, much like the one he'd given earlier in the apartment at the smell of the sulfur. His mind was racing about what to say. It wasn't that he didn't believe in being honest because that was one of his number one values—if he even had values, he thought to himself—but for whatever reason, and he couldn't place his finger on it, he didn't want to say anything that negative about Ariel to Ariel.

"Well, uh, I don't trust you," he said finally, squinting his eyes to get a closer look at her. She stood up abruptly and crossed to the bed opposite of him, sitting down on it and squinting back hard at him.

"That works out just fine because I don't trust you either," she said complacently. "But I work well with you and Sam. I don't know why that is because I don't work with other hunters. Ever. And when I do, it doesn't exactly end on friendly terms."

"Doesn't play well with others. Got it," Dean said smartly with another smirk.

"But for whatever reason, I get along ok with you two," she said, a ghost of a frown grazing across her face. Dean turned to face her, placing his feet flat on the floor and his hands on his knees as he leaned the slightest bit towards her.

"Why don't you have a partner?" he asked. Ariel's face instantly closed off, and she only gave him a half-smile.

"It's easier to work on my own," she answered with a forced calm to her tone. "When you have a partner, you have to worry about their safety in addition to your own. It just…it doesn't end well."

"Personal experience?" Dean asked, pressing her. Ariel flattened her mouth, and for a moment, he thought that she was going to hit him, but she didn't. She just gave a quiet laugh and a nod.

"Yeah. Something like that," she said quietly. She looked up and away from him, and he could see that she was no longer in the room with him; she was miles away with someone else in a time that was much happier. Or maybe it was sadder. The drawn angle of her mouth signified that she could either be mourning a happy memory or remembering a sad one.

Her phone began buzzing, and she checked the ID. Eagerly, she answered it.

"Newton," she said breathlessly. "What the fuck took you so long?"

"Oh, I don't know. Just casually hunting a fucking rugaru," Felix Newton, friend and hunter responded with a snort. "What's so important, anyway?"

"I'm working a job here, and I recognized it and wanted to see if you had any thoughts on it."

"I'm all ears and then some. Shoot."

"Three single women all living with roommates. Killed by demons. I know I've heard about something similar to this, but I don't know where, and I can't remember. Was it that one time at The Roadhouse when we all got together?" Ariel went to rub her lip with her index finger but then stopped when she remembered she was wearing lipstick. Dean's face was suddenly right in front of hers, curiosity coloring his expression.

"The Roadhouse?" he asked. "You know Ellen and Jo?"

"Shut up," she said, waving her hand at him.

"What?" Felix asked over the phone.

"Not you. This—this unimportant thing I'm working with is bothering me," she sighed. Dean chuckled and settled back down onto the bed next to her. Ariel was aware of how dangerously close his thigh was to hers, but she showed no reaction. Instead, she looked anywhere but him, all the while feeling his candy apple-colored eyes grazing over her.

Dean sat and watched her. He hadn't intended to sit this close to her. It'd just kind of happened. He'd gotten excited when he heard that she'd been at The Roadhouse, thereby inferring that she knew Ellen and Jo, and he'd only meant to sit next to her on the bed. He'd originally been aiming for a good foot away from her, but now he was only about three to four inches away, and he could feel that heat between them that he'd felt last night at the car. It was the same heat that he remembered every time he looked at her.

"Wait, you're working a job with someone? When the fuck have you started working with people?" Felix asked, amazement plain to hear in his voice.

"I don't. It's—it's a long story, but anyway, keep talking. Does the job sound familiar?"

"Yeah, of course it does. It's a demon ritual. A sacrifice. Typically, the demon possesses someone who lives in close proximity to the victim i.e. a roommate, kills the single lady, does some bullshit little ceremony with it, and then goes on his way."

"Dammit. So he'll already be gone."

"Nope. Needs six ladies. Not three."

Ariel breathed a sigh of relief and smoothed her hair down flat with her hand. She could still feel the intensity of the stare of the Winchester next to her, and she shot him an irritated glance, but she continued talking to Felix.

"Perfect. Ok. We still have time to catch the son of a bitch," she breathed. "Thanks, Felix. I've gotta run. I'll catch you later." As she hung up, she became aware of how undeniably close Dean was to her, and she kept herself from giving any kind of reaction to it. He was pulling the same shit on her that she'd pulled on him. Putting her phone away in her pocket, she looked up at him through her eyelashes.

"I guess you heard all that since you decided to get all up close and personal," she said, her voice lowering down to an almost intimate whisper. She didn't miss how his eyes took a mini-detour down to her lips and then back up to her eyes. His green eyes still stunned her, and for a brief second, she considered the fact that he wasn't real. He shouldn't have been real, considering how handsome he truly was.

"Trust me, this isn't what I call up close and personal," Dean responded with a wink.

"I thought you didn't like me," Ariel said breezily, the pitch and softness of her voice still the same. Dean chuckled quietly and shook his head.

"Never said I didn't like you. I don't trust you," he said carefully. She nodded, listening to what he was saying, and she smiled at him.

"Call Sam," she said, and then she got up from the bed and moved to her own, lying down on it. "I'm taking a 10 minute power nap. Wake me up when he's here."

"You're choosing now to crash? What about all that 'saving people' shit you pulled earlier?" Dean asked. He disliked that she'd moved away from him, and that fact only confused him because he still didn't like her all that much. Being around Ariel made him want to tear his own hair out, but yet he somehow seemed to secretly enjoy when she was close to him. The conflict was just brewing underneath his skin, and he tried to keep his face blank.

"Ok, well, I figured out our next lead with no help from you. We all need to get together and regroup, and we can't do that until Sam's here, so I might as well rest up while I can since we're at a bit of a dead end," she replied logically.

"Fine. You take that bed. I'll take this one," Dean replied. He noticed the confused purse of her lips, but he lay down on Sam's bed and whipped his cell phone out, dialing Sam's number. "Sammy, it's me. Ariel has a lead."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Demon ritual. Dude's making sacrifices, and he's only halfway through on his kill list. Unfortunately, we don't know his next move."

"Ok. I just got to the vet's house. I haven't even been inside to look for any signs of demons."

"Come on back then. We need to discuss our next step and how the fuck we're going to catch this bastard. By the way, when you come in, be quiet. It's naptime here in Room 102," Dean said cheerfully.

"You're napping?"

"Yeah, man. I drove the _entire_ way here last night, and then I slept on a goddamn couch. I'm entitled to a nap in a bed, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. Besides, Little Miss Don't Waste Time is taking a nap, too, so if it's good enough for her, it's damn well good enough for me." He ignored the middle finger that Ariel held up towards him.

"Um, ok. I'm gonna stop by the diner and grab some coffee. Do you guys want anything?"

"No, everything's fine. See you shortly." Dean hung up and found Ariel sitting up on her bed undoing her blouse. He swallowed hard and inwardly panicked about what to do. Was he being an asshole by just sitting there out in the open letting her do it? Would she think he were a prude if he turned his head? There seemed to be no right answer in Dean's panicked brain as he tried to decide what the best course of action was without seeming like a douche. She stopped halfway down and then stood up, unzipping her skirt on the side. Her eyes lifted, and she saw Dean's uncomfortable look.

"Relax, I'm wearing shorts and a cami underneath this. You don't get a peepshow today, man," she said. Dean scowled at her.

"I don't need to relax. _You _relax," he countered. She paused briefly and gave him a "duh" stare.

"I _am_ going to relax. Hence the nap."

"Whatever." Dean leaned back into the pillows and put his head back.

"You're really gonna sleep in your suit?" Ariel asked, tucking herself under the covers. Dean took a glimpse down and inwardly sighed when he saw that he was still wearing his monkey suit. For the first time in his life, he felt truly, _truly_ conflicted. Undressing in front of Ariel was just going to be awkward, and if he slept in his monkey suit, he'd have to iron it for tomorrow. He struggled with his own laziness and his vanity, and the laziness won out.

"Yep. Gives it character," he said with a smirk. "Go to sleep."

"Fine. Good talk, Dean."

"Go to sleep."

* * *

_"Elli—"_

_A hard smack across the back of her head sent Ariel flying to the ground, landing on her knees. Getting up, she turned and looked behind her and saw Elliot standing there with a piece of pipe in his hand._

"What the fuck?" she snapped, rubbing the back of her head. "This is a dream."

"You bet your ass this is a dream," her former partner replied. He was dressed in the same clothes he'd been in when she'd last seen him: a plaid button down and jeans with Timberland boots, the unofficial uniform of all male hunters. Seeing him in front of her made Ariel lose her breath. His light blonde hair was sticking up in the front like it always did, and she wanted to go pat it down out of habit, but she didn't move.

"Is this really you, or is this, like, my subconscious or something?" she asked him, attempting a smirk but knowing she was failing miserably.

"Oh, it's me, alright," he answered jovially. "I've come from the Great Beyond to give you a warning."

"A warning?" Ariel repeated slowly, tilting her head to the side and taking a step back in alarm.

"Yeah. And to also show you how good I still look."

"Fuck you, Ell," she said with a low laugh. He grinned back at her, and it made her heart ache with missing him.

"They're catching up," Elliot said, his smile not quite as bright as he looked at her. Even in the dark of the warehouse around her, she could see the brown of his eyes. Her breath hurt as she drew it in, and she forced the panic to go away.

"How far off?" she asked, her voice quiet.

"A few days. But they're close. And since you've teamed up with Solider Boy and Floppy Head, I thought I'd give you a warning. How long did it take you to decide to work with partners?" he asked. There wasn't a trace of animosity in Elliot's familiar voice, just genuine curiosity. Ariel's mouth twisted to the side, and she shook her head adamantly.

"It's a long story. I didn't exactly team up with them," she said. Elliot gazed at her as if he were going to challenge her, but then he nodded.

"Ok. I believe you," he said. "Be careful, Ariel. You don't wanna end up like me." He offered up a soft laugh at the end. Pain ripped through Ariel's chest, and she stepped forward to him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Ugh, stop. Save it. I was a hunter, A. I was gonna die no matter what."

"Elliot, it's not—"

"_Stop_. I might be dead, but I've still got your back. You've gotta be careful. Do you hear me, Ariel?" Elliot's voice was serious, and Ariel found herself nodding to assure not only him, but herself as well. She so longed to run to him and wrap him in her arms, but that wouldn't have been something she would've done if he were still alive. She and Elliot had been strictly friends, never much of the touchy type. But as she saw him in all his old familiarity, she wanted nothing more than to run to him and hug him.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you."

"I've got to go. I've fucked up all kinds of airways and shit to get here in the first place. Be safe, Ariel. And stay with the Winchesters. They'll be able to help you. Stay with them. Dean—"

* * *

Suddenly, Ariel was yanked from her dream and found herself gasping for air again. She hadn't had a nightmare, but seeing Elliot and losing him so quickly was almost just as bad. Sitting up quickly, she checked the bed to see if Dean had noticed, but he was sound asleep, dead to the world. Sam wasn't back in the room; she was unaware of how long she'd been asleep and how far away Sam was. Shakily running a hand over her face, she stood up and went to go wash her face in the bathroom. The cold water would bring her back to her senses and remind her to keep her guard up.

Elliot's words still rang in her head. _Stay with the Winchesters_. She released a shaky breath as she splashed her face, the cold stinging her pores and bringing her consciousness to a pointed alertness. If Elliot had come back from the dead to tell her to stay with the Winchesters, maybe he knew something that she didn't, and he was telling her that she could trust them. Still, her instincts told her that she'd be endangering them by staying with them; Elliot had basically told her that by coming to warn her that the things she was hunting were catching up with her. He'd also started to say something about Dean, but then she'd woken up, and he'd been yanked away from her.

Dean. What on Earth could Elliot have had to say about Dean? She stepped into the doorframe of the bathroom and looked at the sleeping man. Even in sleep, he looked like a fucking god. It wasn't natural for men to be that good looking, she thought to herself, crossing to her bed and settling back under the covers. Sleep wouldn't come to her now, but as she looked at Dean Winchester and how vulnerable but strong he looked while he slept, she felt the tiniest bit of trust starting to creep in.


	4. Instincts

**Shoutout to roxyluv7 for reviewing!**

**I hope y'all are having a great holiday season! For those of you who celebrate Christmas, I hope y'all had a wonderful Christmas, and for those of you who celebrate other holidays at this time, I hope you had a great one.**

**Here is Chapter 4! There's finally some demon action and more Dean/Ariel interaction. Don't worry - things are definitely about to heat up. Just as a warning, sometime later in this story, I will be changing the rating to M for sex scenes. I don't think it'll be happening too soon, but I just wanted to give a heads up.**

**Please, please, please leave your thoughts! What do you like, what don't you like, what do you want to see next? Most importantly, what do you think Ariel is hunting that Elliot warned her about? Let me know what you think! =)**

* * *

Chapter 4

Since Ariel wasn't able to go back to sleep, she relocated to the couch and used Sam's laptop to research the demon ritual. Dean continued to sleep soundly as she pored over websites that detailed the gruesome ritual that included the sacrifice of six single women by six individual demons to their cause. The ritual was only performed when the demons collectively needed the same thing, whether it be strength, stamina, concentration, or whatever the hell it was that they needed. Resting her head in her hand, Ariel wondered what on Earth these demons were needing in order to perform such a powerful ceremony.

She heard Dean let out a sigh off to her left as he slept. Even though she found it ridiculously creepy to watch people when they slept, she'd taken a few moments to observe Dean in his unconscious state. In Ariel's opinion, the way that people slept said a lot about them, and it was an understatement to say that she was curious about the kind of person Dean Winchester was. So far, what she was able to tell about Dean was that he loved having a large amount of personal space due to the fact that he sprawled out everywhere on the bed, and he was always on alert because he kept one hand protectively under his pillow where she knew he'd slid a knife when he thought she hadn't been paying attention. Lastly, she'd learned that the only time he ever seemed to get any semblance of peace was when he was asleep because that ever-present frown wasn't present at all in his unconsciousness.

Basically, all she'd learned was that Dean Winchester never failed in piquing her interest.

The sound of the key in the door caught her attention, and she tensed, her hand instantly going to her gun and drawing it out. The door opened, and she saw Sam carrying a cup of coffee and an apologetic look on his face. When he saw her sitting at his laptop, he paused for a moment. The expression on his face showed that he hadn't been expecting her to be awake, let alone sitting at his laptop. Furthermore, he seemed to be conflicted with confronting her about using his laptop and just letting it slide.

Ariel lifted her hands in the air, as if she were a criminal being caught by the police.

"I wasn't doing anything bad, I swear," she said. "You can come look at History. I was only researching the ritual that the demons are performing here in town."

The conflict drained away from his face, and he shrugged lightly, crossing towards the couch and sitting at the end opposite of her.

"Oh, that's fine," he said, though his voice sounded the slightest bit cautious. "I'm not quite as distrustful of you as Dean is." His eyes glanced towards the bed where he found his older brother sleeping.

"He has every reason to be. You guys don't know shit about me," she replied with a nonchalant shrug of her own, seeming to brush the issue off. "Like I said before, you can't take any chances when you're a hunter."

"I appreciate your help and input to the job, though. Really, I do. Bobby said that having you along when dealing with demons is great. He has a lot of great things to say about you," Sam said and offered her a smile of truce. Ariel accepted it and gave him a smile back of her own.

"Sometimes he's too nice," she murmured as she shook her head. Sam laughed sharply and looked at her in mild surprise.

"Bobby? Bobby Singer?" he asked. The tone of his voice was disbelief.

"I said _sometimes_," she responded with a laugh of her own. "Anyway, it means a lot to know that he said that. Getting praise from him can be…difficult to say the least. Did you find any more indicators of demons at the other apartments?"

"Oh, I wound up not going. After Dean called about what you'd found, I figured it'd just be, well, a waste of time." He looked at her with his soft hazel eyes, a new curiosity in them. "Do you usually not follow through on things like that? Say, if you find sulfur in one apartment, do you not check the others?"

Ariel shook her head.

"No, I don't unless I get a gut feeling that I should. My intuition is pretty on point, so I trust that wholeheartedly."

"Interesting. My dad taught us very fact-based ways of hunting. Obviously, listening to intuition is key, but he was always about the facts. Basically drilled it into our heads." Sam offered a tiny smile, but it didn't appear the slightest bit genuine.

"Everyone has his or her own technique when it comes to hunting. It's just whatever works, you know? I go on gut, and you guys go on fact. Perfectly normal," Ariel responded matter of factly. "I guess it's kind of nice to see a new change of pace."

"Yeah, you hunt solo?" Sam asked, to which Ariel nodded. He drew in a breath to speak, but she cut him off with a knowing look on her face, though she also appeared amused in the tiniest way.

"I know, I know. It's really dangerous to do that. Trust me, I've heard all the lectures from other hunters about why I shouldn't do that, so you'd basically be preaching to the choir. I just like to do things my way. I work quicker. So yeah, about the ritual I found. Apparently, it's six demons involved. Each has to make a human sacrifice of a single female in order to get something they need. Now, all six demons need to need the same thing, and that need could be anything."

She hoped that her change of speed would get Sam distracted, and she silently released a breath of relief when she saw that the plan had worked. His hazel eyes immediately turned inward as his brain began churning and spinning out all kinds of thoughts, theories, and ideas.

"But what do these six particular demons need?" he muttered, more to himself than to Ariel. Ariel went to respond when a rustling of sheets and blankets from the side of the room with the beds caught both her and Sam's attention. Dean was waking up, and he didn't appear to be any happier.

"Hey, you guys realize that you could wake up every single dead person in the world with how loud you talk?" he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. Opening his eyes, he blearily scanned across the room before making contact with Ariel's and freezing there. His eyes seemed to focus, and he blinked twice, as if trying to remember who exactly she was while remembering all too well her identity.

"Well, if we do manage to wake the dead, I guess we'd always have a job," Ariel responded in a monotone. Sam snickered, but Dean's face seemed to harden as consciousness became more familiar to him.

"Sweetheart, we're always going to have a job. There's always going to be monsters, and there's always going to be evil, and we're always going to have to kill it," he answered with a biting tone. Ariel inwardly flinched, but she kept staring calmly back at him with her dark blue eyes.

"You're right," she said. "But first, let's take care of this evil, shall we?"

"Dean, did you fall asleep in your suit?" Sam asked, giving Dean a onceover and a disapproving look at the wrinkled condition of the older Winchester's monkey suit. Dean shot his younger brother an annoyed look and nodded.

"Yeah. So what? I was tired."

"Seems like Mr. Sunshine didn't get enough beauty sleep," Sam mumbled below his breath. Dean heard, but he didn't say anything in response because it wasn't worth his time. He sat down on a chair at the desk by the wall and turned so he could face the other two in the room. Ariel was still in just shorts and a cami, and her hair was just the tiniest bit askew, but it didn't take away from her looks at all.

"What's the plan now? We just wait it out? These murders have taken place once a week for the past three weeks. The most recent one was five days ago, so that's got to mean that the demons are looking for their next victim," Sam said.

"Well, we can't just stay holed up here," Dean added, throwing one arm over the back of his chair and leaning against it.

"Yeah, I actually agree with Dean on this one," Ariel said. "But I've got an idea. We have no way of finding these demons as it seems, right?"

"Right," Sam answered slowly.

"You guys are the famous Winchesters. That information is enough to piss them off. And to put it mildly, let's just say that the entirety of the demon population doesn't like me, either. Our presence alone should rattle them," she pointed out. Sam frowned, and he leaned forward to rest his elbows against his knees.

"I'm not sure I'm following," he said with a shake of his head. Ariel grinned and held up a finger towards him.

"Ah, patience, young Winchester. Demons hate you and Dean, am I wrong?"

"Hell no," Dean piped up goodnaturedly. Ariel's grin widened as she made her mark.

"Exactly. And demons hate me. If we just, you know, happen to go out for a stroll this evening, and if we just happen to make our way around town over the next day or so, we can be sure that at least one of those six demons will see us. They'll be so pissed off that the three of us are here that they'll come after us, thinking that they can take us. However, the only thing that they'll be doing is revealing themselves to us. In which case, we'll step in, exorcise the bitches, and we'll be done." She leaned back against the arm of the couch and stretched her legs out across the length of it towards Sam. Her expression showed that she looked pleased with herself, and for good reason at that.

"Using ourselves as bait," Dean said. Ariel nodded.

"Exactly. We'll be luring them out."

"Well, not something we haven't done before," Dean admitted with a shrug.

"It's a good plan, I've gotta say," Sam agreed as he shook his hair out of his face. "We have no idea where to look for them to begin with, and making our presence known will definitely be making a statement."

"It appears that I'm agreeing with Ariel, believe it or not," Dean said out loud, sounding impressed with himself. "Alright. It's a plan."

* * *

"This. This is the hub of Plymouth."

Sam swept his long arm out in front of him in a grand gesture, as if he were proudly showing off a brand new car. Instead, what he was showing off was a tiny café in downtown. The café looked like it was the size of a closet, and it was jampacked full of people. Dean scowled at all of them and then looked at Sam with disapproval.

"How the fuck are we supposed to find a seat in this joint?" he asked. Sam shrugged innocently in response.

"Primetime for seating was probably at 3:00," he answered mildly.

"Well, boys, if we can handle six desperate demons, I think that we can handle a crowded coffee shop," Ariel spoke up.

"But those are _people_," Dean protested, his voice on the edge of whiny.

"Jesus, Dean, what's wrong with you? You've been extra cranky," Sam continued with his own voice on the edge of annoyance. He knew exactly what the problem was, but he didn't bring it up at the moment. There was no point in discussing Ariel's presence in front of Ariel, particularly when there was nothing that could be done. She was staying, and that was final. He just knew that Dean was sulking because he was a damn drama queen, and he didn't like when he didn't get his way.

"Excuse me, Sam, but I," Dean paused for dramatic effect, "am a _perfect_ ray of sunshine with sunshine oozing out of every part of me. Including my asshole,"

"That was disgusting imagery that I never needed to see in all my life," Sam responded with a wince.

"Before we continue any talk about assholes, can we go on in?" Ariel interjected, much to Sam's relief. Grateful for the distraction, Sam nodded and stepped forward with Ariel and Dean following him inside. All of them had changed out of their professional clothes, and they were dressed like normal people in jeans, plaid shirts for the boys, and a lace tank top under a royal blue cardigan for Ariel.

When Sam opened the door, the aroma exuding from the café made Dean's mouth water. He was a passionate lover of coffee, and he was used to the shitty coffee he was forced to drink when he was on the road, so finding a good cup of Joe was a luxury he rarely received. Smelling the delicious hot drink filled his insides with warmth, and he found that he could breathe much easier. The promising scent of the coffee almost took away from the fact that there were people crowding in on him from all sides.

"Now I know how sardines feel," he mumbled to himself. Despite the crowd and the noise, however, Ariel let out a laugh. She was in front of him, following directly behind Sam, and she tossed a glance over her shoulder that told him she'd heard his comment. Dean was pleasantly surprised to hear the genuine laugh come bubbling out of her throat, and he found himself wishing that he could've seen her face when she'd laughed. She was lovely enough when she wasn't smiling, and he could only imagine how she looked with a real smile lighting up her defined features.

She annoyed the shit out of him; that was for sure, and he wasn't going to argue that. But goddamn, she also attracted him, and that pissed him off in a way he couldn't even describe or hope to explain. He'd been watching how she worked, knowing that she was watching his methods, and he'd seen how she could easily work the scene. She'd effortlessly taken over the interviews at the jail with the roommates who'd shot the victims. Ariel dripped sensitivity and emotions, two things that Dean disliked in general. If he could place his irritation with her, it would have to be that.

Sure, she didn't carry around her heart on her sleeve, but it was obvious that she was in tune with her feelings. Feelings were foreign territory to Dean, and he was ok with that. The only time he willingly let himself feel was whenever he thought about his mom and whenever he needed to save his dad or Sam on one of their hunts. Of course Dean had feelings; he just didn't show them as much as Ariel did. And the fact that Ariel was in touch with something his dad had warned him off against was enough to set him off.

Sam stopped abruptly, stuck behind a bunch of people. Dean was absorbed in his realization as to why Ariel got to him, and he didn't notice that she'd stopped short in front of him. Without thinking, he walked directly into her, and he jumped at the contact. There was no space for him to back up, and he panicked. He looked down at her shock and held his hands out to the side to show that he wasn't doing any funny business with them. She turned around, her eyes meeting his, and as he looked at her dark blue eyes, he noticed that her sweater was several shades lighter than her eyes. She couldn't turn around fully to face him, but the front of his body was still touching the back of hers, and there was no avoiding the moment.

Dean braced himself for a biting comment, but instead she smirked at him.

"So does this meet your definition of up close and personal?" she asked cheekily. Dean smirked back at her, purposely using his most charming of smirks. He could smell the scent of shampoo and cleanliness on her, no traces of perfume or any artificial scents. Again, he was uncomfortably close to her and was drawn to the warmth that her body was transferring to his.

"Not quite, but we're getting closer to nailing the description," he replied smoothly. People around them began moving, and she took a step forward, her eyes and her warmth leaving him. Dean awkwardly brushed his hand over his hair and looked around, suddenly self-conscious. He was used to being attracted to women after only a few seconds, but he was feeling an odd attraction to Ariel Easton that he wasn't accustomed to. Swallowing, he pushed the strange thoughts down and followed behind Ariel as Sam led the way to a table. He was just careful to keep his distance this time.

"If we survived that, I think we can easily take down a bunch of demons," Sam quipped with a wry smile on his face as he found his place. Dean eagerly took the inside seat, noticing that Ariel sat across from Sam.

"It should be a piece of cake," she said with false enthusiasm. "Jesus, it's loud as shit in here."

"Like I said: the hub of Plymouth. It's the only coffee place here in town besides the diner, and word on the street says that they're milk here is organic." Sam grinned in genuine appreciation. "I'm gonna see if I can fight the mob to get something to drink. You guys want anything?"

"Coffee. Black," Dean droned immediately.

"White chocolate mocha," Ariel requested, handing Sam a five-dollar bill to pay for hers. And with that, Sam disappeared into the crowd. She turned her gaze back to Dean, who was attempting to keep his cool around her. She hadn't ignored the physical encounter they'd just had; the feel of him running into her was seared across her skin, and it was distracting her.

"I judge people on the way they drink their coffee," she said. Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and moved closer to her.

"What? It's hard to hear with all this damn noise," he loudly replied. She moved closer as well, aware of the distance that they were closing between them.

"I judge people on the way they drink their coffee," she repeated. To her surprise, an amused look crossed Dean's undeniably well-sculpted face.

"Yeah? What does my coffee say to you?" he asked.

"Man's man. Tough guy. Doesn't need any sweet to deal with things," she answered.

"Well, what does yours say about you, Beauty Queen?" Dean countered. Her head jerked back a few centimeters, and she twisted her mouth into her own amused expression.

"Beauty Queen?" she repeated in an almost bored tone.

"Yeah, don't think I missed your whole make up routine this morning," Dean pointed out, gesturing with his head towards her face. "Took damn near an hour."

"Shorten that down to five minutes, and then you'll be closer on the time it takes. And hey, don't judge. People are way more willing to talk to and answer questions from attractive people than non-attractive people. It's, unfortunately, the way things work." Her hand lingered by her ear as she pushed some of her hair out of her eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. So you didn't answer the question," Dean pushed.

"Oh, yeah. Well, I like chocolatey, sweet things in my coffee, so I need that extra kick of sweet to get the bitter down," she answered evenly. He nodded, not saying anything. The light of the café was low, and even though Ariel couldn't make out the exact details of his face, she could see the lighting hitting off the angles of his, creating pockets of shadows in all the right places. She looked over her shoulder to see that Sam was next in line to place his order.

Suddenly, a hand came down on the table, and when she looked up at the owner of the hand, she found black eyes in the face of a young female café employee with long brown hair looking down at her. Sucking her breath in, she pushed her chair back, her hand reaching back to the waistband of her jeans to pull out the small flask of holy water she'd tucked in.

"Ah-ah-ah, Ariel," the demon said with a slick smile. "You don't want to cause a scene here in the café with all these people, would you? You'd be the woman who killed a poor, young employee who's lived here all her life. We wouldn't want anything like that."

Across the table, Dean had his hand on his own flask of holy water. The Winchesters and Ariel were typical hunters, sharing the same tricks of the trade. It would've been ridiculous for them to go out without being prepared; besides, they were by no means amateur hunters.

"What the fuck do you want?" he hissed darkly. The demon turned and looked at him, its black eyes disappearing and revealing the brown eyes of the waitress it was wearing. It still held its knowing smile, and it let out a low chuckle.

"Dean Winchester," she said slowly. "We sure hit the jackpot with the three of you. The Winchester brothers and Ariel Easton all in the same town. Too bad Daddy Winchester weren't alive. It would've been nice to have caught him, too. Or that skinny blonde boy. What was his name, Ariel? Oh, I remember. Elliot. Elliot Tanner."

Ariel's eyes narrowed, and hate filled her body. Her throat tightened, and for a second, she couldn't breathe. _Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm, this is just what she wants_, she thought over and over in her head. _Bobby told the boys that you were good with demons. Be good with demons_. She forced the anger to drain out of her blood, and she pulled a smile deep out of her heart to put across her mouth.

"Then we'll play in private," she said calmly. The demon grinned even wider, an ugly smile splitting her mouth.

"You're not _completely_ unreasonable, Miss Easton," she replied as she gave the blonde hunter a once over with her eyes. "I can't wait to tell my bosses about this."

"You're not gonna live long enough to do that," Dean growled. The demon turned her attention to him, the smile gone from her face.

"We'll see about that, won't we, Dean Winchester. Maybe I should see what Sam thinks."

At the mention of Sam's name, Dean's muscles tensed, and he jolted in his chair as if he were about to leap at the demon, but he didn't move. He understood the threat the demon was making, but he didn't allow himself to move. If he acted, he would wind up getting arrested, and that wasn't going to help destroy these demons. He simply sat there on high alert, his green eyes focused and filled with anger. When the demon saw he wasn't going to do anything, she let out a tiny laugh, though her face remained serious.

"My shift lets off at 10 tonight. Come to this address." She pulled a piece of paper and pen out of her pocket and scribbled something on it, sliding it over to Dean. Smiling sweetly, she turned to Ariel one last time. "I don't know why you're still sticking around here, Ariel. Your buddies are coming. You know. Your _favorite_ friends."

The demon let out another low laugh and waved over her shoulder at Dean before walking back behind the counter. Ariel refused to watch the demon walk off, training her eyes to the tabletop. It was then that she realized her fists were clenched underneath the table, her right hand still tight on the flask tucked into the back of her waistband.

"Son of a bitch," Dean snapped, bringing his fist down to the table with a bang. Only the surrounding tables noticed and gave him strange looks, but he didn't make any acknowledgement of it. "They sure fucking noticed us."

"Sam said this was 'the hub.' Of course at least one of those nasty fuckers would be stationed here," Ariel said slowly, the strain to keep her cool hidden deep within her bones. Her eyes moved upward and finally saw Dean. He looked pissed as hell, and if she weren't so angry herself, she might've found it even more appealing, but she could barely think.

A demon had never mentioned the things she was hunting before, but this was the first. Elliot had come to her in that dream earlier to tell her that they were catching up, and that only meant that the longer she stayed in Plymouth, the more ground they were getting. This had been the longest time that they'd gone without finding her, thus far, and it was about to end if she didn't get out of dodge. Her muscles ached with the urge to flee so she could put the Winchesters out of danger, but she couldn't. Elliot had told her to stay with them. It was also against Ariel's hunter etiquette to abandon the brothers, but God, she just hoped that they managed to get these fuckers taken care of so the Winchesters wouldn't be put in the same kind of danger that she was in, too.

"Are you two ok?" Sam's voice drew her out of her mind, and she and Dean looked up to see the younger Winchester looking perplexed as he handed the both of them their coffees.

"Didn't take long for the demons to catch wind of us," Ariel tersely replied. Sam's eyes widened, and he quickly looked up and scanned the room.

"Where?" he demanded.

"Employee. Female with brown hair," Dean answered. Sam carefully moved to his seat and sat down, his coffee forgotten in his hand. Dean couldn't resist taking his cup in his hand and inhaling deeply. Even the smell of the stuff was heavenly; despite the tense situation at hand, he could still appreciate quality coffee, the kind of coffee he knew was in his hand.

"That her working the cash register right now?" Sam asked. Dean took a discreet glance and nodded in confirmation as he pushed the piece of paper with the address written on it towards his brother.

"Tonight we rumble," he announced, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"We're meeting with them to hash it out?" Sam asked. Ariel nodded.

"I swear, it's like the three of us were born under a lucky star," she quipped, not making eye contact with either of the boys, particularly Dean. She could feel the curiosity radiating off of him, wanting to know what the demon had been referring to, but she couldn't tell the Winchesters about the things she was hunting. Not just yet. It was for their own good.

"So what? We're going to exorcise all of them?" Sam asked. "That's a lot of demons with no way to kill them."

"Yes, we're going to exorcise them," Dean replied. Sam gave him a look.

"Dean, that's impossible," he said. "Six demons?"

"You sure were quick into agreeing to this plan before. Why are you questioning it now?" Dean snapped back.

"Didn't you think that they'd reveal themselves one by one? Not all at one time?" Sam asked, a look of worry crossing his thin face. Ariel suddenly grinned.

"Lucky for you that I have a plan."

* * *

Two hours later, Dean, Sam, and Ariel were sitting in their motel room with $100 worth of clear nail polish and three small paintbrushes that they'd bought at the local dollar store. They had another hour before they needed to leave to go hunt down the location of their demon dance party, and they were all slightly overwhelmed by the amount of nail polish that was in the room. Sam lifted one of the bottles and eyed it suspiciously.

"Are you sure this is gonna work, Ariel?" he asked, his voice communicating that he didn't believe it'd work at all.

"Of course it's gonna work. My plans always work." Ariel smirked at the disbelieving young Winchester. "I've also used this before in the past, and it gets the desired effect.

"Nail polish. I've been reduced to nail polish," Dean mumbled from the couch, lifting his own bottle and staring at it. "I didn't even know clear nail polish was a thing. Why paint your nails clear? Isn't the point to have colors and shit on them?"

"Keeps the color from chipping off as easily. Unfortunately, they don't have a clear nail polish that'll withstand the chipping that occurs when you cut off a vampire's head, so I learned to not even paint my nails shortly after I started hunting," Ariel replied with a sigh.

"You were hunting vamps when you were 12?" Dean asked incredulously. Sam's head jerked in Ariel's direction, his brown hair flopping around his face from the quickness of the movement. Sometimes he reminded Ariel of a cat, and she remembered the cat she'd had when she was a kid and how much she'd loved it.

"You've been hunting since you were 12?" Sam asked, his tone copying that of Dean's. She nodded.

"Yeah. Why so shocked? I mean, I haven't been hunting as long as you boys have, but I've been at it for a decent while. I didn't hunt any vamps until I'd been hunting for about 10 months or so, so I might've been 13 by the time I actually got to hunt any. I don't know. I don't remember. I can forget the exact time of the year that I hunted something, but I can never forget the actual hunt." She offered up an ironic smile.

"Vampires are a lot for a kid who's just started hunting," Dean said. A frown was settling onto his forehead again, and that was when Ariel noticed that he hadn't really frowned since his nap—aside from the demon encounter.

"If you start young, you see a lot of shit," she responded vaguely.

"Don't we know it," Sam chimed. "Still, I never would've pegged you as a kid hunter."

"Why?" Ariel asked with a grin.

"Too damn polished," Dean interjected. She rolled her eyes but gave a small smile. He wasn't 100% serious, but he wasn't completely joking, either, and she could sense that off of him. His gaze was steady on her, but she didn't meet his piercing stare. She picked up one of the bottles of nail polish and pretended to examine it. That moment when he'd touched her earlier. It'd been the first time he'd made physical contact with her, and it hadn't even been his hands touching her. She swallowed hard as she thought about his hands.

Ariel wasn't the kind of person to get caught up with men and relationships. For starters, she was a hunter, and a relationship just wasn't realistic for a hunter. At all. Beyond that, she just didn't get swept away with it as the stereotype of women portrayed. She'd had a kind of boyfriend when she was 19, but that'd lasted a month, the length of a job she was working in his hometown. She'd liked him a hell of a lot, but she hadn't stayed. When she'd iced the spirit attacking him, she'd quietly taken her things and left.

Ariel was undoubtedly human, and she'd definitely had her fun with attractive men, but she was the last person in the world to get carried away with a simple little thing like a guy. And yet, here she was in a motel room with an undeniably attractive man and an undeniable attraction that was just simmering in her chest. Whenever Ariel had a feeling, she went with it. She trusted it, and she acted on it because there was nothing more honest than gut instinct, in her mind; that was how she worked as a hunter and a person, but for the first time in her life, Ariel was fighting her instinct. She was fighting the pull she felt towards Dean.


	5. Comfort

**Shoutout to roxylove7 for reviewing!**

**Ah, here we finally see some fighting action. Enter demons, and enter answers. We also get to see what Ariel's running from.**

**Please let me know your opinions. I haven't received much feedback on this story, so I'm not sure whether or not to continue. Reviews tell me what y'all want, and since I've only gotten a few, I don't know if I'm doing a good job, so I don't know if I'm going to keep writing. So PLEASE leave a review or drop me a PM!**

**Enjoy =)**

**Also, 10 points to whoever can point out where I got the idea for celestial bronze from. (Totally not my creation.)**

* * *

Chapter 5

Ariel stood back and admired her invisible handiwork. Sam and Dean stood next to her with puzzled looks on their faces.

"Well, you're either a genius or an idiot," Dean said out loud, breaking the silence. He put his hands on his hips and stared out at the vast emptiness of the parking lot behind the old abandoned schoolhouse. If he could see what they'd just laid down, he would've been surveying it, but since it wasn't possible to see, he'd have to just trust that it was there.

"And you're _sure_ of this?" Sam asked for the millionth time.

"More than sure. It's never failed me yet. I'm the living proof!" Ariel chirped. "Are you 5,000% positive that the building was empty?"

"Yep. Absolutely no movement whatsoever," he replied. "I think we stand a bit of a chance now."

"Of course we do!" Dean cheerily declared. "Those sons of bitches will never see it coming."

"So we hope," Ariel answered as she released a slow exhale of breath. The smell of nail polish was nearly gone from the air, and Sam insisted that there had been no demons in the abandoned school. Still, she didn't like being taken by surprise, and demons were notorious for doing that.

"How many minutes until 10?" she asked.

"Fifteen," Dean answered. He glanced over at Ariel. "Ready to impress me with your skills, Beauty Queen?"

"Please, this idea alone should have you on your knees worshipping me," she quipped in response. She saw his mouth spread into that crooked grin of his. It was dark out, but she could still see it in all its snarky glory. "If it hadn't been for me, the two of you would be trying to figure out what to do."

"Not true. We're a lot more efficient than you seem to think," Dean shot back. "You keep catching us at our off moments."

"No. I think you really are as good as people say you are. You're just slow, and I just happen to know more about demons than you." She folded her arms across her chest. Sam tossed her an unimpressed glance, walking back towards the Impala and leaning against it with the back of his legs resting against the grill.

"We kind of grew up with all of this," he said. She could hear the diplomacy in his voice as he tried to not come across like a know-it-all, and she grinned to herself. The Winchesters were know-it-alls, even if they couldn't see it themselves. Hell, she was a know-it-all, and she could admit it. But in all honesty, she knew a lot more about demons than either of them did.

"True. You have a point," she conceded. "But ten bucks says that I have a lot more experience hunting them than the two of you."

"Yeah? Try us," Dean snapped. The anger and irritation was back in his tone, and she heaved a sigh.

"Guess you'll have to wait and see my impressive skills," Ariel answered with an innocent smile. She could feel the weight of her knife in the waistband of her jeans. Some girls put their valuables in their bras, but Ariel put hers in her waistband. Then again, her kinds of valuables were things such as holy water, salt, and the knife instead of cash and credit cards.

"You're a piece of work, you realize that?" Dean's voice was hard, and his accusation seemed to come out of nowhere. Ariel took a step back, surprised at his outburst coming from nowhere.

"Dean." Sam stepped forward and put a hand on his older brother's shoulder, holding him back from approaching Ariel.

"Get off me!" Dean shoved Sam's hand off him, his green eyes blazing. Turning away, he walked a few steps and stood with his hands on his hips as he calmed himself down.

"Ariel, I'm sorry. He gets touchy." He heard Sam talking to the aggravating woman behind him in sympathetic tones. Sammy, always so in touch with his feelings and words. Of course he wouldn't be bothered by Ariel; Sammy was just like her.

"Dammit, Sam, I'm not 'touchy.' I'm pissed. She's been running with us for two days, and she's fucking pushing it, man." Dean turned to Ariel. "Look here. My brother and I? We've been hunting for as long as we can remember. We know the tricks of the trade. We know demons. We don't know you. Bobby said that you come with a lot of baggage. And that demon back at the café said that you have something coming after you. Is it hard to understand why I'm having a difficult time trusting you?" The words spilled out of him in a steady river of sounds, and he couldn't stop it. All of the frustrations and uncertainties he'd been feeling over the past few days were just seeping out of him, and it was almost as if he couldn't control it. Silence stood between all three of them, the tension high and tight.

Ariel's eyes were hard in the moonlight. Her gaze was steady, and she hadn't shrunk at all beneath his hard words, but he could see the pain that had crossed into her navy blue eyes. Instantly, the guilt at having caused her pain washed over him, but he couldn't say that he was sorry for it; Bobby's words and then the demon's suggestion over something hunting her hadn't escaped his notice, and his worries about Sam were stronger than any attraction he'd felt for this strange hunter.

Ariel opened her mouth to respond, but she was interrupted.

"Is this a bad time?" A voice came from in front of them. Ariel's head snapped, and she found herself staring down six demons: three male and three female. The waitress from the café smiled slowly as she stared at the three hunters in front of her. Taking a step forward, she beckoned to the five demons behind her.

"Take a good look. Isn't this a sorry sight? Sam and Dean Winchester and Ariel Easton. The three of you are just the icing on the cake," she said with that smooth, easy smile across her face.

"Yeah, well, we're gonna ice you," Dean replied, his voice low and focused on the task at hand. Ariel didn't reach back for her knife just yet. Now wasn't the time. She moved in closer to the brothers, gauging their movements and basing her actions off of them. They were beginning to tighten in together, just like they'd decided in their plan. Technically, it'd been Sam's plan; he'd been the one to say that they move in close so that the demons would have a focal point, just enough to distract them.

A male demon dressed in a red shirt let out a sharp bark of a laugh.

"You won't know the meaning of ice once you're in Hell," he hissed. "Just like your daddy. Poor John Winchester. Roasting. If I listen hard enough, I can hear his screams now as he burns."

Ariel didn't have to be close to Dean to sense his muscles tightening at the mention of his father. She could even feel Sam's fury radiating off of him into the darkness of the night, his rage as black as the night itself. Their father's death was still fresh, still bleeding. Jesus, she of all people knew that the pain of losing someone never quite faded away. Even now, years after Elliot's death, all a demon had to do was mention his name, and the pain in her chest was as fresh as the second he'd died.

"You ugly sons of bitches," Sam growled, his voice a low guttural rumble in his throat. He backed up towards the Impala, never once taking his eyes off of the demons in front of him. They began advancing towards the three hunters.

"If you saw my real face, you'd see just how pretty I am," the man in the red shirt replied with a smirk. His black eyes flicked over to Ariel. Even though it was hard to tell if he was scanning her up and down, she could feel his eyes drinking in the sight of her. She wanted to cross her arms over her body, but she didn't.

"Mmm, you're a pretty piece, too," he continued. "Mallory, you should take _that_ meatsuit."

"I can't. The little bitch has one of those damned tattoos," the waitress said with a sigh. "Fucking whore."

At her insult, Dean rushed forward, quicker than Ariel could even process. His reflexes were like that of a cat, and with one swift move, he'd punched her hard across her face.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, alarmed at Dean's deviation from their plan. "Goddammit. Now, Ariel."

He and Ariel rushed in the blink of an eye to the Impala's trunk and pulled out giant water guns. As Ariel picked hers up, she could hear the hard, resounding smack of fist against cheekbone, and she mentally winced.

"Shit, shit, shit," she mumbled under her breath. Turning around, she glanced up at Sam as they ran back to where they'd just been standing. Surprisingly, Dean seemed to be holding his own against six demons, but he wouldn't be able to forever. His fist collided with one demon's temple, and his elbow jerked back and up to fracture another's nose. He fought with strength and ease, perfectly choreographed. He knew what he was for doing, that was for damn sure. Despite the serious situation, Ariel was impressed, and she even allowed herself to think that it was hot.

"Now!" Sam shouted. Raising her water gun, she and Sam stepped in closer and began shooting. Holy water sprayed out all over the demons. Steam began to rise from the demons' skin, and loud shrieks escaped their mouths, instantly leaving Dean alone. Using the diversion, Dean slipped out from the chaos and ran to the trunk, grabbing his own water gun to join in.

"_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus_—" Sam began chanting the exorcism in Latin. The demons cried out even louder, and one of them fell to his knees. Taking a brief glance at the brothers and seeing that they were busy, Ariel seized her moment. She reached around and pulled her knife out and ran into the circle.

"Ariel!" Dean shouted. She ignored him, only running faster until she'd reached the fallen demon. Wasting no time, she raised her arm holding the knife and plunged it into him. The demon screamed, and black smoke came streaming out of his mouth and down into the ground, leaving red, hot glowing marks behind it.

Another demon reached out for her, and she ducked, turning and stabbing it into the demon's body to get the same result as the first one. As she launched for a third demon, she felt an arm reach out and snake around her waist. The waitress grabbed her arm holding the knife and twisted it. The pain was blinding, and Ariel let out a cry as she released the knife, watching it drop to the ground. The waitress bent down to the ground and picked it up. As she stood back up, she pressed the tip of it to Ariel's throat. A thin cut formed along Ariel's neck, dripping down towards her chest.

"Stop, or she dies!" the demon shouted. Sam stopped chanting, and Dean stopped with the holy water gun. His eyes were wide as he stared at Ariel. Her head was tilted back by the demon's grasp on her short blonde hair. She kept her own eyes wide open as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Don't, they can't kill me," she gasped out to Dean and Sam.

"You don't think we can kill you? Are you sure about that? Just because those bastards have their mark on you doesn't mean we can't take you to them and watch them kill you, bitch," the waitress hissed sharply in Ariel's ear. She looked up at the remaining three demons. "Kill them."

The demons began advancing towards the Winchesters when they suddenly stopped by an invisible force. The waitress pulled back harder on Ariel's hair, meriting another cry of pain from the blonde hunter.

"What did you do?!" the demon cried. Ariel found herself chuckling through the pain.

"Devil's trap," she whispered snarkily.

"What?" the waitress snapped.

"Clear nail polish, bitch!" Dean shouted, the anger burning through his voice. With an angry cry, the demon pushed Ariel away from her. Ariel was falling, disoriented by the pain, and the next thing she knew, she was lying on the ground. The waitress was on her, teeth gnashing, skin burning, and Ariel was unaware of what was happening. One second the waitress was on her, knife in hand, and the next, she wasn't. For a moment, it looked as though Dean had jumped the waitress.

Ariel wasn't sure why she was so groggy. Rolling over, she forced herself to her feet and saw that the waitress was dead. Sam was taking on two demons at once, and Dean had her knife in the belly of another demon, pulling it out to plunge into the demon coming at him from his right. She felt as if she were in a strange fog, but she needed to focus. Consciously telling her feet to move, she began to run, and she was beside Sam.

A female in a hoodie turned towards her and reached out to grab her. Ducking, she tackled the demon to the ground and held it down.

"Dean!" she shouted. The demon turned its head and bit her wrist. "Fuck! Dean!"

The demon flipped her, and Ariel was on her back beneath it. Using her head, she collided her forehead with the demon's, pleased to see that she could daze it. With the demon disoriented, she pushed upwards and looped the demons arms into hers and behind the demon's back. With perfect timing, Dean stabbed it with the knife and held the knife still until every ounce of black smoke had burned through the ground. Ariel felt the demon's body go slack in her arms, and she dropped it.

Panting, she looked around her. They'd gotten out of it. Their plan had worked; the clear nail polish had successfully made an invisible devil's trap, and Sam's contribution of the holy water guns had done the job. The only thing that hadn't been part of the plan had been Ariel's trick with the knife. She'd kind of left that out on purpose, and she knew it was time to face the music.

"Ariel, what were you thinking?" Sam asked. He was leaning over with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "You have a knife that kills demons?"

"You could've been fucking killed!" Dean snapped. The anger and adrenaline flowing through his blood made a dangerous mix, but as he was looking at her, he noticed that something wasn't right. Ariel was looking at him, but she didn't appear to see him. She blinked hard and then frowned.

"Ariel?" he asked. She had blood covering her lace tank top and cardigan from the cut on her neck, and granted, it was a lot of blood, but it didn't appear as though it were a life threatening injury. Her eyes settled on him, and she blinked again.

"Ariel, are you ok?" Sam asked.

"I think they nicked me," she said calmly. In one smooth, clean motion, Ariel was on her knees and then lying on her back. Panic swelled up in the back of Dean's mouth, and he was kneeling by her in 0.1 seconds. She seemed to be relatively coherent because she was trying to ward them away from her.

"I'm ok, I'm ok," she murmured. "I'm ok."

"Shit. Shit, no you're not. Ariel, you've been stabbed," Sam gasped. It was then that Dean noticed the hole in the midriff section of Ariel's tank top. Lifting it up, he found a knife wound gushing blood.

"My ass you're not ok," he snapped, and he tucked one arm beneath her shoulders and the other behind her knees. With ease, he picked her up and began moving her to the Impala.

"No, no, no, no, no, don't take me to the hospital!" she protested. "Don't take me there. Take me back to the motel. It's not that deep. Please, I've been stabbed before. I know when I'm ok and when I'm not. Don't take me to the hospital."

"You're not dying on our watch, Ariel," Sam argued.

"Drive," Dean ordered his brother as he climbed into the backseat with the blonde hunter. Her head rested on his lap, and she was looking up at him. She was injured, and her clear blue eyes were steady on him. He looked down at her and swallowed the anxiety that was creeping up into the back of his throat.

"Don't you dare take me to a fucking hospital!" Ariel hissed, grabbing a hold of Dean's shirt. Her knuckles were bloody, he noticed, and her grip was surprisingly strong.

"Bullshit," he responded to her.

"No. No, you can't take me there," she repeated adamantly. "I'm ok. It's just blood. I need rest. You just can't take me to a hospital."

"Ariel, you're going," Sam said firmly in the front seat.

"It's Furies. I have the Furies after me. Technically, I'm hunting the Furies, but the Furies are hunting me. If we go to a hospital, they'll find me, and I won't be able to protect you two and myself while also being able to kill them," she pleaded, the tone of her voice switching into desperation. "They're catching up to me, and we need to leave."

"Wait, what?" Sam asked, twisting around for a brief second.

"What the hell are Furies?" Dean demanded. Ariel let out a sigh, shakily bringing a hand to her forehead and covering her face.

"Trust me on this," she said. "I'll tell you guys everything at the motel where it's safe, but please, don't take me to a hospital. I'm not dying. I only need rest."

Dean looked up at the rearview mirror and made eye contact with Sam. The look in Sam's eyes only confirmed Dean's own thoughts; whatever these Furies were had Ariel so worked up that she was willing to tell them about the Furies instead of going to a hospital. If they upset her this badly, the Winchesters were going to have to lie low.

Dean looked down and noticed that he'd absentmindedly been stroking the hunter's blonde hair. Her hair was every bit as soft as it'd looked, and he couldn't help himself. The motion came surprisingly naturally to him, shocking him because he wasn't a nurturing person. He wasn't even a romantic person, and here he was doing an action that could be construed as both romantic and nurturing.

She fit snugly against his lap, and her warmth was seeping through his jeans to his legs. Her panicked blue eyes gazed up at his, imploring him, pleading with him. Glancing back up at Sam, he sighed.

"Fine. But if you show any signs of getting worse, you're going straight to a fucking hospital, do you understand me?" he asked. He'd intended for his words to come out harshly to show that he indicated business, but they only sounded tired as they hung in the air between them. Relief flooded her face, and she instantly relaxed, nodding and closing her eyes.

"Thank you," she breathed. Her hand slipped into his free one, gripping tightly. He squeezed back. The drying blood on her hands and his own were sticky, and it seemed to glue them together. She let out a small laugh but then winced at the pain.

"What?" Dean asked, concern drawing his eyebrows together in that commonplace frown of his. She shook her head.

"Blood makes a strange kind of glue," she replied.

"You are so morbid," Dean answered, unsure of whether to smile or wrinkle his nose at her observation.

"I thought I was a piece of work," she said with a smirk. The look on Dean's face made her smile. "Stop making me laugh. It's too painful."

"I'm not trying to make you laugh." His expression changed to indignant.

"I know. But you are." Her eyes closed at the sensation of Dean running his hand over her hair. This was the first time he'd ever touched her, and she realized that she wanted more of it. She was so close to him that she could smell him, the scent of motel soap and clean man. A slight sting of sweat and dirt was mixed in with it, but she didn't mind. She didn't mind resting her head in his lap and having his hand smooth over her hair. She didn't mind his other hand firmly grasping hers, stuck together because of the dried blood. Funny how it was blood that had made his hands touch her, she thought. She'd just been wondering what it would be like to have his hands touch her skin, and now they were. Just covered in blood, too.

But she didn't mind. The pull she'd been feeling towards him had made her reach out and grab his hand. Maybe it was having lost some blood, maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was even the comforting feeling she got from having his hands touch her, but by reaching out to touch him and bring that part of him close to her, she wasn't fighting that pull any longer.

* * *

"You really could've gotten killed," Sam said. He looked at the stitches he'd just made and then back at Ariel, who was guzzling a bottle of Jack. When she was done swallowing, she grinned at him.

"Yeah, and Dean couldn't have gotten killed by running into the middle of them?" she pointed out.

"That's different," Dean interjected from the bottom of the bed. He'd let Sam take on the job of stitching her up; his younger brother had always been the one with the steadier hands and the gentler touch when it came to healing. Dean usually just wanted to get it done as soon as possible, so he hadn't learned the art of being gentle when dealing with first aid. Sam, on the other hand, should've been a damn nurse. And even though Sam had been the one to stitch Ariel up, Dean had lingered where he could see, keeping a close eye on his brother as he sealed Ariel's wound.

"Don't give me any of that sexist bullshit. Just because I have tits doesn't mean that I should stand back and let you two have all the fun," she said with a sigh, waving her hand dismissively. She'd heard the argument plenty of times, and she wasn't in the mood.

"Yeah, so what's up with that knife?" Sam asked curiously. "I didn't think that demons could be killed, just exorcised."

He gingerly lowered her shirt over her wound and settled back on the bed across from her. Dean still stayed seated at the bottom of her bed. He'd already cleaned up his own wounds, having received only minor scrapes and cuts that were so minor he'd barely even noticed getting them.

"Told you I knew a thing or two about hunting demons," Ariel replied with a smirk. "But it's celestial bronze. Special kind of bronze that's super rare. It's the only knife I know that can kill a demon."

"How'd you get it?" Dean questioned, his curiosity piqued.

"My dad. No idea how he got it, but I kind of inherited it," she said vaguely with that tone that meant she wasn't entirely comfortable with where the conversation was going.

"Doesn't celestial mean to do with heaven or some shit?" Dean asked as he directed his attention towards Sam. His younger brother's forehead was wrinkled in a deep frown, and he nodded in response to Dean's question.

"Yeah. That's the part that's fuzzy," he said. Ariel shrugged limply from her place on the bed.

"Don't look at me. I know very little about it other than the fact that it can kill demons and the Furies."

"Ok, story time," Dean interjected. "You said you were gonna tell us about these Furies if we didn't take you to the hospital."

A sigh released from between her lips, and she nodded, pressing them firmly together. She didn't look at them, instead keeping her gaze down and focused on the bedspread. The only person who knew about the Furies was Bobby, and she was reluctant to speak about them. She was acutely aware of the danger that the brothers were in just by being around her, and it wasn't fair to keep them in the dark, but knowing what was coming after her would surely prompt them to leave her. Not that that was a bad thing, considering that they'd be saving their asses, and she didn't want anything to happen to them. Losing one partner had been enough.

Swallowing the pain creeping up from her chest, she nodded slowly.

"Yeah. The Furies. My dad…he was a hunter. He didn't do it regularly like we do or anything like that, but he helped out with local jobs. Even though he wasn't a regular, he was involved in a lot of things we weren't supposed to know about. He was always so secretive about them. Whatever he was doing attracted the Furies. Greek mythology talks about them. They basically set out to punish people, and they won't give up until they've…they've killed the person who's guilty." She paused. "I guess my whole family was marked because they got my dad and my brother. They almost got my mom, but they didn't quite get her. I was the only one who escaped. They've been hunting me ever since, and I've been hunting them."

"So that's why you're a hunter," Sam said steadily, his voice quiet and soothing. Ariel nodded tersely, her mouth tight in a line. She looked up, her eyes meeting Dean's. His face was smooth, no frown marring his sharp, angled features. A placidity was resting in his eyes, and she found looking at him to be soothing.

"And these things are catching up to you right now?" he asked, his voice free of any accusation. She nodded reluctantly.

"I don't hunt with partners because it endangers them," she said. "The Furies won't hesitate to kill innocent people in order to get to their target."

"Why is it that we're finding out about all these things we never knew of before?" Dean muttered.

"Right? Just when we thought we knew everything there was out there," Sam added, shaking his head to get his hair out of his hazel eyes. "You've been hunting these things since you were 12?"

"On and off. You know, you get distracted by a job or two or twenty, and then you get back on track. They also have other people to take care of than just me, so I've had long periods where I wasn't actively on their tail," she replied.

"How long has it been since you last ran into them?" Dean asked.

"Three years ago." That vague tone in her voice was back, and he eased off. She'd been through a hell of a night so far, and he didn't want to make it any worse for her. Fighting six demons and then getting stabbed wasn't the best makings of an evening, he thought.

"You're a hell of a fighter," he said. A genuine smile came across Ariel's mouth, and before he could stop himself, he was smiling back.

"Impressed?" she asked, that smirk returning to her face.

"Yeah, whatever," he conceded, looking away from her even though he was still smiling. However, he made the mistake of looking at Sam, and he met his younger brother's curious hazel stare. Annoyance flashed through him, and he shot a scowl towards his pesky little brother.

"You still need to be careful, though," he said and glanced back at Ariel. She shrugged.

"It's about killing them and saving as many people as possible," she replied.

"Seriously, Ariel, you need to be careful. Tonight could've ended up a lot worse. You're lucky that that wound is as shallow as it is. If Dean hadn't jumped that demon, you could seriously be dead right now," Sam spoke up.

"Then you've gotta trust me," she shot back. Her voice lacked any hint of anger or aggression; it was just a simple statement, as calm and clear as her own blue eyes.

"And _you've_ gotta trust _us_," Sam countered, mirroring her own matter of fact tone.

"I can do that. But as soon as I'm all healed up, I'm splitting," she said. She knew she was going against what Elliot had told her in her dream, but she just couldn't make herself stay with him. Dean's magnetic touch and gaze were already affecting her, and when the Furies showed up, they would know, and they would go after the Winchesters; they would go after Dean. She couldn't identify what kind of feelings she had for Dean besides attraction—she could at least admit that she felt attracted to him, no matter how much she knew she couldn't act on it—but she certainly didn't want him to die, and the Furies would use that to their advantage.

Sam let out a short laugh and shook his head, as if she amused him.

"Like hell you are," he responded with a grin. She frowned at him.

"Yeah, did you see the kind of team we made out there? Even though you didn't tell us you were gonna dive in with your special weapon and get hacking those bastards to pieces, we worked well together. You ain't slipping away just yet We can help you," Dean added.

"_No_," she stressed, the panic rising a small notch in her solar plexus, the heat of it expanding and spreading throughout her body, "They'll hurt you. They'll find any reason to hurt you."

"Uh, yeah?" Dean snorted. "So will demons. So will vengeful spirits. So will shapeshifters. So will vampires. So will werewolves. So will wendigos. So will rugarus. Look, Ariel, we're hunters. We're kind of used to dangerous shit."

"This is different," she insisted, fighting the swelling panic.

"So we'll help you. I think fighting demons together kind of constitutes as a bonding experience." Dean shot her a cheeky grin. Reluctance colored her features with a darker, more serious look, and she chewed the inside of her cheek as she thought. She was slightly dirty, and she looked tired as hell, but Dean still noticed how attractive she was. It was hard to find a woman who looked good in low lit motels, but Ariel Easton qualified as one of those rare women.

"Ariel, let us help you," Sam said. "At least agree to stay with us until we get to Bobby's like we agreed on. You can recover there and see what you decide."

Ariel sighed, feeling the urge to cross her arms across her chest but finding it to be too painful to really move too much. She was stubborn enough as it was, but it seemed as though the Winchester boys were a fair match in stubbornness for her. Her eyes flickered to Dean, and she found him still watching her intently with his intense green eyes.

"Until I'm recovered, but that's all I'm promising right now," she said, speaking directly to him. A smile split across his face.

"Perfect!" Dean exclaimed. Sam smiled, too.

"Rest up, ok? We're hitting the road tomorrow to get you back to Bobby's in one piece," the younger Winchester said. She grinned up at him.

"You're younger than me, and I'm getting the older brother treatment," she mumbled. She carefully moved beneath the covers, waving off the brothers when they tried to help her and yawning as she did so. The exhaustion was hitting her head on with no warning, seemingly coming from nowhere. Wincing at the pain in her side from the wound, she settled back into the mattress underneath the warm blankets.

"Just your casual stab wound," Sam added. "I'm gonna hit the showers, Dean."

"Dammit, Sam, I hate being last!" Dean groaned. With a chuckle, Sam grabbed his duffel bag and disappeared into the shower. Silence filled the room, but it was a comfortable silence. Dean stood up and walked to the head of the bed, turning out the lamp by Ariel's head.

"Time for beauty sleep," he quipped. She rolled her eyes at him but rested her head back against the pillow.

"Whatever," she mumbled sleepily. As she closed her eyes, she felt Dean's hand smooth over the top of her head. A warm, easy calm swept over her body, and she no longer felt the anxiety and the panic that she had earlier. Dean Winchester's touch calmed her in a way that no one else's touch ever had. Drifting off to sleep, she wondered if her touch did the same to him.


	6. Secret

**Shoutouts to roxylove7, Melinda, and tigereyekum for reviewing!**

**From the feedback that I've gotten, y'all like the story, so it seems unanimous that I keep writing! Please keep leaving reviews, though, because I need to know what you guys like/don't like, want more of/less of, etc. I can't stress that enough. I want to keep y'all happy, and reviews let me know if I'm doing that.**

**Here's Chapter 6 with some Bobby Singer and hopefully a few surprises for you guys! =)**

* * *

Chapter 6

"That was a damn fool thing for you to do." Bobby Singer folded his arms across his chest as he stared down at the wounded blonde with a sour look on his face. Ariel put on her best pitiful but innocent expression as she lay in the comfortable, familiar bed that belonged to her at Bobby's house. Sam and Dean stood behind Bobby's shoulder as he ranted to her.

"I've always bragged about how smart you were, how you have more common sense than any other hunter I know, and then you pull something stupid like this. You've always been impulsive, but you're rarely clueless," he spat.

"Bobby, come on, it's been a while since I've worked with a partner," Ariel sighed tiredly. The exhaustion was really beginning to settle within her bones, and her head was growing heavier the longer she kept trying to focus on Bobby. She kept her big blue eyes trained on the older man as he continued to pace back and forth, words spewing out of his mouth. She was used to these kinds of lectures and rants from him, and she knew that it was best to just let him get it out of his system, but Jesus, she was tired.

"Bullshit, and you know it. I swear, their lack of common sense seems to be rubbing off on you." Bobby gestured back towards the brothers with his hand without even turning to look at them. Dean smirked until he realized what Bobby was saying. He opened his mouth to protest, but Sam nudged him with his elbow and shook his head to keep Dean quiet.

"Bobby, I'm sorry," Ariel said. She really was tired from everything she'd been through over the last few days. Even though she'd slept the entire car ride back to Bobby's from Plymouth, she just wanted to sleep some more. Sam had popped the cap on a few old pain prescriptions that he was giving her to help deal with the pain from her wound, and the pills made her sleepy.

Her words seemed to have the desired effect on the older hunter because his face softened, and he heaved a heavy sigh, sinking down into the chair by her bed. His tired face expressed more worry than any of his words had, and for the first time, Ariel felt a bit guilty as she looked at him. She knew how he worried about her, especially since she had the Furies on her ass, and she couldn't help feeling guilty over having caused him more grief.

"I know. I know you are, ya idjit," he replied, his voice much calmer as he spoke to her. "It just really pisses me off to get a call from Sam saying that you've been stabbed by a demon. You look like shit, Ari."

"Honestly, I feel like shit." Ariel attempted a light laugh, but she wound up wincing instead. She tried to hide it from Bobby, but he noticed and immediately scowled. "Hey, I got the job done. You taught me that's the most important thing. So I got a bit of a tickle in the side because of it."

"Get your ass to sleep. You need as much rest as you can get. I'll get the lowdown from the boys. If you need anything, just call one of us, ok?" He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, making her smile. Dean noticed the tenderness that his father figure was exhibiting towards this strange hunter, and he glanced over at Sam to see if Sam had caught onto anything. The frown gracing his taller younger brother's forehead only confirmed that he had. Nicknames and forehead kisses weren't exactly Bobby Singer qualities.

Ariel was already asleep by the time Bobby turned around to face the boys. Silently gesturing with his head to Sam and Dean to leave, they all quietly exited the room and relocated down to the den. Dean could feel Bobby's pissed off vibes seeping off of him and out into the air. Things had been strange ever since they'd arrived at Bobby's. Technically, they'd only gotten there about 10 minutes ago, but in those 10 minutes, things had been extra strange and not quite normal.

"I'm not gonna yell at you assholes, if that's what you're looking so crazy for," Bobby said. "Sit down, for Christ's sake. I'm not gonna fuss at you, even though you're damn fools, too. It's her own doing that she got injured. Thank God she wasn't stupid enough to get hurt even worse than she already is."

"You're…_not_ gonna yell at us?" Sam asked, suddenly confused. He exchanged a look with Dean, who had the same look of his confusion, his eyebrows drawn up and his eyes wide.

"No, I'm not. Like I said, she's always been impulsive. So you two know about the knife now?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, she told us about that and the Furies," Dean responded. This time it was Bobby's turn to look shocked, and he put his hands on his knees, squinting hard at the boys in disbelief.

"She told you two about the Furies hunting her?" he asked, his pitch rising at the end. Dean nodded solemnly.

"We were gonna take her to the hospital, and she told us about the Furies so that we wouldn't take her," he answered. He watched Bobby lean back in his seat and rub his chin with his hand as he thought.

"Was that the baggage you were referring to, Bobby?" Sam asked. Bobby glanced up at the younger Winchester and nodded, almost absentmindedly, as if he were thousands of miles away instead of in his home with his two boys. As Dean continued to observe Bobby, he was noticing that something was off the longer he was there. There was just a different vibe about everything, and he couldn't describe what it was.

"What's going on, Bobby?" he asked. That got Bobby's attention, and his gaze landed on Dean. He looked as tired as Ariel had, and he let out a sigh as he rubbed his chin with his hand again.

"Shit, I can't believe I'm telling you two this, but I've got a confession, believe it or not," he said finally. Dean leaned forward, becoming even more interested. He was also pleased with himself for having noticed that there was something going on, that it hadn't been just his crazy imagination at work.

"Well, this week just keeps getting more interesting," Sam quipped. Bobby's glare shut him up quickly, and he settled back in his chair to let Bobby talk.

"Hey, now, I ain't proud of what I'm about to tell you, but since the two of you seem to have teamed up with Ariel, I gotta throw it out there," he said. He sighed and rested his head against his hand, propped up on the arm of the chair by his elbow. "Did Ariel tell you how we know each other?"

"Three years back you helped her out with a banshee," Dean said, his frown settling deeply into the corners of his mouth as his curiosity and confusion seemed to sink deeper as well. Bobby huffed out what seemed to be the fortieth sigh in two minutes.

"That ain't true. When her old man was ganked by those Furies, her mom went nutty and had to be committed to one of those funny farms. Ariel was only 12 at the time with no experience hunting whatsoever, and I guess I kind of took her in here with me," he said, avoiding the Winchesters' eyes as he finished his sentence. Silence ricocheted throughout the room.

Dean cleared his throat and kept his breathing steady as he allowed Bobby's confession to process through his brain. Mentally, he did the math, and the realization of what Bobby had just said hit him so hard he felt as though he'd been slapped across the face with a branch of thorns.

"What?" he snapped. "You're telling me that all these years, you've been raising Ariel?"

Bobby finally allowed himself to look up, and he nodded and shrugged at the same time.

"I guess if you want to call it that. And it wasn't the _entire_ time. Those goddamn Furies would catch up every once in a while, and she'd have to rotate to another hunter's house for a few months or so to throw them off her tail, but this place was pretty much her base camp," he said with a trace of guilt hiding in his voice.

"All those times that we've come to visit you, she was here?" Sam asked incredulously. Bobby wrinkled his nose at him.

"No, ya idjit! It was usually lucky chance that she was out of the house when you assholes stopped in. Remember, there was a time that your dad wasn't too keen on bringing you around, and that was conveniently around the time Ariel landed here," he answered.

"Bobby, five days ago, Ariel Easton didn't exist. Furies didn't exist. Demons couldn't be killed. Celestial bronze was not a thing. As far as Sam and I were concerned, you didn't have a foster daughter who would wind up stealing jobs from us!" Dean exclaimed, running a hand through his short dark hair. It was growing out on top, and he needed it cut, but that was the last thing on his mind as he continued to take in everything Bobby had just told them.

"Look, it was too dangerous for you boys to know. Those Furies are nasty fuckers, and I wasn't about to get you two involved. Besides, all you've gotta do is take one look at those blue eyes of hers, and you wouldn't be able to work a job without makin' an asshole of yourself. That's right, Dean, I'm looking at you!" Bobby countered.

"What? Why me?" Dean shot back indignantly. He met Sam's hazel eyes and saw his brother giving him a knowing look. "What? You, too? For fuck's sake."

He stood up and began pacing, unable to keep his antsy urges at bay. Even though he'd been hoping that Sam wouldn't catch on to the strange feelings he was having for Ariel, realistically, he knew that Sam was crazy smart and would, unfortunately, catch on to them. He'd caught Sam's curious pauses and lingering looks whenever Dean would carefully wake Ariel up when they pulled through a drive through to see what she wanted.

Well, everything was relative. To Dean, carefully waking someone up meant he didn't blast the stereo at full volume while shouting, "Rise and shine!" Instead of pulling out his annoying, fuck-it antics like he did with Sam, he'd turned around and said Ariel's name, even reaching back one time to tap her on the leg to wake her from her pill-induced sleep.

"Come on, Dean, I know how you are with the ladies," Bobby pushed. "I couldn't push all of you together at once. It had to happen naturally."

"To hell with naturally, Bobby! We're being blindsided here!" Dean shouted. When he remembered Ariel was sleeping upstairs, he discreetly covered his mouth with his hand. Everything was just shocking. It seemed that overnight, his entire world had unfolded to reveal something more intricate and complex than he ever could've dreamed of. As if dealing with Yellow Eyes wasn't enough, he thought to himself angrily.

"It's just…a lot," Sam said, taking his diplomatic tone that he always did whenever he was trying not to cause a scene but wasn't going to excuse what had just happened. "It's overwhelming."

"You're telling me," Bobby grumbled. "One day I was just a regular hunter, next thing I know, I've got this kid who's basically an orphan at my front door. She's overwhelming enough as it is."

The look on his face was fond, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Dean rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb as he tried to calm his rushing blood that was roaring through his ears so loudly he couldn't even hear himself think. At this point, he couldn't even identify what exactly he was feeling. It wasn't anger, per se. Sure, he was frustrated that Bobby had gone so many years without saying that he was, well, harboring a girl who was being hunted by the three Furies of Greek lore. Of course he'd be frustrated with that; however, there was something running deeper in his solar plexus that was more present.

"Overwhelming doesn't begin to describe it," he mumbled. Bobby chuckled, shaking his head as he did so.

"Let me guess: the two of you fight like two ants over the last cracker crumb," he predicted. Dean's green eyes shot up and met Bobby's, and he nodded, still frowning. Bobby snickered, an action that typically couldn't be associated with Bobby Singer.

"I knew the two of you would be at each other's throats. I figured either that, or you'd be trying to get in her pants." On the last part, he shot Dean a warning glare that only made Dean feel guilty. He put on his best innocent face. Ok, so maybe he was sexually attracted to Ariel, but it wasn't as though he were going to act on it. She pushed his buttons on purpose, and he wasn't into blondes with short hair. No matter how lovely they looked in low-lit motel rooms. No matter how hot it was that they could kill a demon. Blinking several times, he tossed his thoughts out the window and kept what he hoped was the purest face of innocence possible on like a mask.

"She and Dean were fighting literally the entire time. Until she got…" Sam's voice trailed off.

"Stabbed?" Bobby finished. Almost bashfully, Sam looked up and nodded before looking back down at his hands.

"Yeah. Until that. They were fighting all over the place, and then Dean became a different person after she was stabbed. I would even go so far as to say nice." Sam smirked at Dean, who stuck his tongue out at him. Bobby's eyes flicked up at Dean, who was still standing and attempting to look innocent but was succeeding in looking more suspicious.

"If you're gonna just stand there gawking, go get us beers," he snapped. Dean turned and stalked out of the room, half-annoyed but also half-relieved to leave the room and get away from Bobby's and Sam's knowing stares. Obviously, he hadn't expressed any of his weird feelings about Ariel to Sam, but it was like his younger brother could tell the exact height, depth, and length of his feelings. He knew that he was just being paranoid, but damn, things were just too fucking uncomfortable. As he opened the fridge, he wondered how many times Ariel had opened the fridge herself to get beers for herself and Bobby. He wondered what she'd drunk when she was 12 years old and had first come to live there.

He grabbed the beers and walked back into the room, distributing them to the eager parties. Bobby tipped his back and guzzled several swallows before bringing it away from his lips and surveying the two boys in front of him. Sam took a long swig, and Dean took two big gulps before resetting his mind back to the task at hand, whatever it was. At this point, he didn't know what the fuck was going on anymore. Hell, he wasn't even sure if the life he was living was real life. What was "real" anyway? Furies? Ghosts? A life outside of hunting? Just for luck, he took one more swig of his beer.

"I still can't believe we've never run into her before now," he muttered out loud. "Even in between jobs when we'd come and stay here, we've never seen her."

"She's too smart to be here when you guys were around. Keeps her nose out of too much hunter business because of the Furies. Doesn't want to endanger anyone. She barely lives here these days 'cause she's working so many jobs," Bobby answered.

"She's a hell of a hunter," Sam interjected. "Bobby, she's _good_. Really good. I only got to really watch her in action when we were fighting those demons, but she's good."

"Damn stubborn is what she is," Dean interrupted, changing course. He agreed with Sam wholeheartedly. Watching Ariel fight had been a pleasure, in all the ways it could've possibly been. He didn't need to sit there and analyze everything she did to know that she was the best of the best. "She wouldn't let us help her in or out of the car or walk or anything."

Bobby rolled his eyes.

"She's always been like that. Stubborn, impulsive, and fearless," he remarked, but underneath his gruff words was that underlying fondness that didn't escape neither Dean's nor Sam's attention. "Anyway, I ain't the only one with secrets, and yes, I'm looking at you two. What's the skinny on Yellow Eyes?"

"Nothing," Sam said, the tone of his voice revealing that he wasn't thrilled with it. "No visions either."

"Well, that ain't something to complain about," Bobby quipped and took another swallow of beer. "Those visions can only lead to something worse, I think."

"But they could get me closer to Yellow Eyes. Bobby, we've got to get him," Sam argued.

"Of course the two of you _and_ Ariel would have these important missions to carry out. I can't ever seem to get a bunch of normal hunters who just wanna kill shit." Bobby rolled his eyes. "And, of course, this is a shit ton of bad timing. Just found a case three hours south of here. Looks to be a poltergeist."

"I'll stay here."

The words had slipped out of Dean's mouth so quickly that even he was surprised he'd said them. Bobby and Sam gaped at him, their faces laden with confusion and shock. Sam let out a disbelieving laugh and shook his hair out of his face again. Dean wished his younger brother would just agree to get it cut instead of insisting that he didn't want short hair like his. Hair like that got annoying, Dean thought to himself.

"_You_? _Stay_?" Bobby asked incredulously.

"Uh, yeah," Dean answered, the confidence not quite as strong in his voice as he felt himself growing more self-conscious. "Someone needs to stay and keep the fort locked down."

"Do you have an ulterior motive, boy?" Bobby questioned. Dean rolled his eyes and sat down on the couch next to Sam in a swift, easy movement.

"Of course not. What the hell is there even here to do, anyway? I'll stay and keep an eye out for Ariel, and when she's not so drugged, I'd like to talk to her about the Furies. I figure if we're teaming up with her, I might as well get some more information on them. Know what we're up against." The confidence had returned a little bit to his voice, but he still sounded pretty unsure. Clearing his throat, he looked down at the beer bottle in his hand. He didn't know where his offer had come from. One second, he'd been sitting there listening to Bobby talk about the case, and the next second, he'd volunteered to sit out of a job and take care of an injured hunter he hated earlier that week. Nothing was making sense in his own mind.

"That's unexpected," Sam said. "You, sitting out of a job?"

"Someone's gotta stay!" Dean protested. "I'm offering to do it."

"I ain't exactly the best at home care nursing," Bobby finally admitted. "She usually likes to take care of herself, so that meant I never had to do the bedside thing."

"She'll probably just sleep the whole time, right? It'll be easy." Dean kept his face calm and casual as he sipped some more beer and shrugged, as if what he'd offered to do were the simplest thing in the world. Honestly, he had no idea what "bedside manner" was; that was why he'd let Sam stitch Ariel up. He obviously knew how to give stitches, but his stitches were quick and sloppy. His work was hasty, and that usually meant it was painful. For some reason, the thought of giving Ariel any pain just hadn't seemed like an option for him, so he'd stepped back and let Sam do it.

"You sure you can stay here without killing her?" Sam questioned. Dean gave his younger brother a bored look.

"Uh, yeah. I think I can," he droned back. Bobby stared at the older Winchester before sighing and throwing his hands up in the air.

"I guess that settles it. Never thought I'd see the day I was trusting your sorry ass to take care of someone else," he mumbled. He pointed at Sam. "First thing in the morning, you and I are out of here."

Dean swallowed his beer down quietly, surprised that he'd even managed to get past all of that so easily. Sam was still gazing quizzically at him, but Dean didn't meet his brother's eyes. What Dean was feeling was something he couldn't explain. Shit, the fact that he was accepting that he was really _feeling_ something was another thing entirely that he couldn't explain. Ariel Easton brought out all kinds of conflicting emotions in him, and he needed time to sort his brain out. After the bombshell that Bobby had just dropped on them, he needed it, regardless. All these years Bobby had been taken care of Ariel, and he and Sam had never had any clue about it.

Sam and Bobby were discussing something in the foreground of Dean's physical world, but Dean was stuck in his head. He would be alone with Ariel in the house for anywhere from three days to two weeks, and needed to make good use of that time. She'd be up and about at some point, but he needed to utilize the time where she was healing and still needed to be in bed because that'd be the best way he could get answers from her.

And that was what he needed from her: answers. Dean needed answers about the Furies and about her. He needed answers as to what was going on his head because he'd discovered that the only time he ever experienced any real clarity was when she was near him.

* * *

_The darkness was consuming everything around her, and she sensed something coming up behind her. Turning around, she held her knife in one hand and her gun in the other and jumped nearly 10 feet in the air_.

"Fuck!" she cried. "Jesus!"

"Not quite, but good guess!" Elliot said with a smirk. Running a shaky hand over her face, Ariel sighed and fought for control over her lungs to breathe normally. She let out a groan and shook her hands out, noticing that her weapons seemed to have disappeared from her hands. _Fucking dreams_, she thought with a hint of irritation.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him. "Actually, why are we always _here_?" With a grand gesture, she swept her arm back towards the rest of the dark warehouse. Just moments before, she'd felt the eeriness and creepiness of the warehouse, but now with Elliot in front of her, she felt nothing but security. The darkness didn't seem so sinister with her familiar partner nearby.

"Hey, I don't choose the settings of our meetings." Elliot held his hands up in front of him. "I'm in _your_ head, A."

"Oh, God, that's a scary thing," she mumbled as she looked back to Elliot. He looked his usual nerdy self with his tall, lanky body and blonde hair. Thank God for something she could figure out, she thought.

"Got a little prick, I see," Elliot said.

"The fuck?" Ariel asked in confusion. Elliot groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Goddammit, your mind is still filthy," he said. "I'm talking about your little wound. Actually, believe it or not, that wound was, selfishly, a good thing to happen to you. Those pain meds you're on help me stay here longer."

"Huh, I should stop taking them then," she retorted, but she was smiling as she said it. Elliot gave a fake laugh and a middle finger.

"Ha, ha, very funny. And to think that I was here to save your sorry ass."

"Yeah?" Ariel's face instantly sobered at his words. He nodded.

"Well, actually no, not the way you're thinking. The Furies got called off of you for the time being. This has to do with the Winchesters."

"The Winchesters?" Ariel repeated, a sick feeling coming to her stomach.

"Yeah. They're hunting Yellow Eyes. Those demons you guys killed? They're working for Yellow Eyes, and that ritual was a part of whatever it was that he's trying to do."

"I knew that they were after Yellow Eyes. Bobby's told me as much, but I didn't know the demons were doing anything for that fucker."

"Things are about to get bad, A," Elliot said, his tone becoming much more serious, the way it always did whenever they were discussing the danger of a job. For a moment, Ariel thought that he was alive, and they were back hunting together again. That strong swell of missing him overcame her chest, but she released it as she slowly exhaled. She couldn't get sappy in front of him; this was a fucking dream. It wasn't as if he were haunting her.

"How bad?" she questioned, tilting her head.

"Real bad. Be careful. Do you understand me? You be careful as shit because I don't want to find you on the other side of the line here with me." Elliot's warning was low and quiet, reverberating around the warehouse. Ariel found herself nodding stiffly, her head not seeming to be connected to her own body.

"Why are you warning me about this?" she asked.

"Because you need to be prepared. Ariel, you're an arrogant son of a bitch, and I know that you think you can take anything on, but you've gotta be careful. You're jumping headfirst into this, and you can't do that impulsive shit you always do." His tone told her he wasn't fucking around, and again, she found herself nodding in agreement.

"I'll be careful," she said. "Is that all you're ever going to do in my dreams? Tell me to be careful?"

"If you didn't do dumbass shit, I wouldn't have to." A smile slid across her partner's mouth, and she smiled in return, that pang hitting her hard in the chest again.

"I still can't believe it's you," she said softly.

"I still can't believe it's me, either," he answered, but he didn't have that jovial tone to his voice, and he didn't seem to be smiling. "Being dead is weird, A. I wouldn't suggest it."

"But I thought you'd crossed. Are you a ghost?" Ariel asked, the concern hardening her voice and making her sound as if she were demanding an answer. Elliot rolled his dark eyes and scoffed, folding his arms across his chest.

"Hell no. I've moved on, but still. It's weird. Being dead is weird." He looked at her quietly and then gave a shrug. "Anyway. It's time for you to go back to the land of the living. Tell Bobby hey for me."

"Please, if I tell him I saw you in my dream, he'll try to make it so I don't ever see you in my dreams again," she smirked.

"True. But don't expect to see me a lot. I only come to you when you're in danger. Or when I need to tell you to stop being a dumbass."

"Whatever. Get your skinny ass back to wherever you come from." She smiled as she shooed him away with her hand. "Hey, wait. Wait, before you leave. Last time you were here, you started to tell me something about Dean. What was it?"

"Oh. Yeah, that part's important. I don't know how I forgot that. Dean will help you more than you know."

She waited for more from him, but when he said nothing else, she held her hands out expectantly.

"That's it?" she asked, the pitch of her voice rising at the end.

"Yep. He'll help you more than you know," Elliot replied, looking pleased with himself.

"That was of no help," she intoned with a sigh.

"You'll see."

* * *

Ariel jumped awake and winced at the pain in her side. Blinking her eyes, she focused on movement in her room with her and froze when she saw Dean staring at her. His eyes were wide, and he was frozen himself, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Frowning, she pulled herself to a seated position as she leaned against the headboard of her bed.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Dean slowly moved out of his frozen stance and cleared his throat awkwardly, gesturing with his hand toward a glass of water that was sitting on the nightstand by her bed.

"I brought you water in case you woke up, but I knocked this over." Bending down, he picked up a book that he'd bumped off her dresser, holding it up as evidence. "I swear, I'm not being creepy or anything."

"After everything I've been through, I can't exactly say the creepiest thing in my life was waking up to see you skulking around my room," she replied breezily, stifling a yawn. "How long have I been out?"

"Since yesterday. I was supposed to come wake you up in an hour to make sure you got something to eat. Bobby was really strict about that," Dean answered, straightening himself up and folding his arms across his chest in an attempt to look casual. Ariel frowned curiously at him.

"Did Bobby leave?" she asked.

"Yeah. He and Sam went to go hunt a poltergeist three hours south of here."

"Oh. Ok. Why are _you_ here?" She emphasized the "you," staring into his green eyes with hers. For the first time since she'd jolted awake and realized who was in her room, she felt self-conscious. She smoothed her hand over her hair in case there were any pieces sticking out, and knowing her luck, there would be pieces sticking straight up to the roof. Giving him a quick onceover, she was unsurprised to see that he looked as good as he always did. He was dressed in jeans, boots, and unbuttoned plaid shirt over a grey t-shirt.

"I volunteered to stay," Dean replied casually.

"Oh," she answered. There was obvious tension between them. Something had definitely changed since the night she'd gotten stabbed, and she had no idea what the fuck it was, but she wasn't sure she liked it. What she wanted was for him to come sit with her and run his hand over her hair the way he had in the backseat of his car.

"I'm gonna take a shower," she said bluntly.

"Oh. Ok. Um, I'll be downstairs if you need anything," Dean said as he awkwardly shuffled about her room. "Do you, uh, do you need help or anything?"

Ariel scoffed and shook her head.

"No. I was stabbed, not…" Her voice trailed off. "Huh, I guess I don't really have a case there."

"Yeah, stabbings are pretty serious," Dean added, an amused grin across his mouth. Glancing at his lips, Ariel noticed that he had a wide mouth that looked so much softer when he smiled. He was clean shaven, but she saw that at the corner of the right side of his jaw, he had the smallest bit of stubble. She had the urge to run her hand across his jaw because it was so defined. He really did have the bone structure of a god. Clearing her own throat awkwardly, she slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, unable to keep the grimace of pain off her face.

Closing her eyes to breathe through it, she felt big, strong hands come to her forearms, and she opened her eyes in surprise at the contact. Dean was in front of her, carefully easing her up. His grip was surprisingly gentle, solid and sturdy as he guided her to her feet.

"You sure you're good enough to shower?" he asked, the concern obvious in his voice. She nodded, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, I kind of haven't showered since the day I was stabbed, so I should…um…probably do that." She didn't have control over her words as she was so close to Dean that she could smell the scent of his shaving cream. She cleared her throat again as she noticed that his hands were still holding her steady. His touch was just as warm as she'd remembered it to be; she wanted to be closer to him, but she didn't do anything.

"Why?" Dean asked. His green eyes were intensely looking at her, and she forced herself to make eye contact with him instead of continuing to gape at his perfect jawline.

"I don't think I smell good," she blurted out. Her eyes widened. "Oops. Pain pills are doing the talking for me."

Dean's crooked half-grin settled on his face.

"If you say so. You sure you can handle going to the bathroom by yourself?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm good. I'm fine." She didn't move, and neither did he. The tension was increasing between them, but this was a different kind of tension that made her want to grab him and—

"I should go now, shouldn't I?" Dean asked, suddenly seeming to come back into his head. Much to Ariel's disappointment, he stepped back from her, releasing her forearms.

"Oh. I guess. If I'm going to shower," she answered lamely. Dean grinned wickedly.

"Showers aren't always a solo deal," he said with a wink. Despite herself, Ariel grinned back at him and waved him off with her hand.

"Yeah, yeah, get out of here," she said, watching him as he descended down the stairs. An uncomfortable niggling in the back of her head told her that Dean's statement had, well, enticed her, and she sighed. What on Earth was she going to do with only Dean Winchester in the house for the next few days? She had no idea when Bobby and Sam were going to be back, and just days ago, Dean had been ready to gut her. Yes, something had changed between them, and Ariel had no inkling as to whether it was for the better or for the worse. The sturdiness of his hands and the intensity of his eyes drew her to him, and it seemed as though she wouldn't easily be able to get away from him.

_Dean will help you more than you know_.

So far, Dean had helped her a lot. He hadn't taken her to the hospital, and he'd jumped on board the crazy train that was labeled the Furies. He was even here to help take care of her while Bobby and Sam were gone working a job. Elliot had been convinced that Dean was going to be of great importance to her, and even though Ariel didn't want to admit it, the older Winchester already seemed to be settling himself into a hole in her life that she hadn't even known she had.

Ariel slowly moved to her dresser and pulled out a loose tank top and cotton shorts to wear after her shower, all the while trying to forget the way her skin craved the strength that Dean's hands had left behind him on her body.


	7. Reassurance

**Shoutouts to roxylove7, Melinda, and Alaijah!**

**Ten points to Alaijah for knowing that celestial bronze comes from the Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus series. A bonus 10 points to Alaijah for also recognizing that Dean's nickname for Ariel, "Beauty Queen," is what Leo calls Piper in the books. I actually hadn't planned for that to be on purpose, and I didn't even realize it until I read that review!**

**In this chapter, I think we've all been waiting for this moment. Y'all know what I mean ;) Next chapter we'll start getting back into more actiony stuff. It's not _Supernatural_****without, well, supernatural stuff. So that'll be coming back into play very heavily next chapter.**

**Please continue to leave me thoughts, opinions, suggestions, critiques, etc.!**

**Happy New Year! =)**

* * *

Chapter 7

Dean was thankful for Bobby's old plumbing in the house as soon as he heard the water from Ariel's shower shut off. She'd been in the shower for such a long time that he'd been contemplating for the last seven minutes whether or not to go up and check on her, unsure of how to handle the independent foster daughter of Bobby Singer. When he heard the pipes go silent, he let out his own silent sigh of relief and thanks for having been spared making the decision to check on her. He looked at the time on his phone and saw that she'd been in the shower for a good 40 minutes. _Women_, he thought to himself with a wry smirk.

While Ariel had been showering, Dean had taken it upon himself to research the Furies. So far, he hadn't found anything all that encouraging. They were three women from Greek mythology who, like Ariel had said, could only be killed by celestial bronze. According to his research, celestial bronze was bronze that was, well, made in heaven. That was the part that stumped Dean. He could live with the fact that Furies existed. He could live with the fact that they were nasty, vicious, ruthless monsters that he felt should be dead. He couldn't live with the celestial bronze part. Heaven wasn't a real thing, and he knew that. After all of his years hunting with his father, they'd never come across anything celestial before, and in Dean's mind, that was enough to tell him that Heaven didn't exist.

"And so the plot thickens," he murmured to himself, continuing to scroll over the page. He heard the bathroom door open and shut, accompanied with the sound of creaking boards that indicated Ariel was walking down the hall. An odd thumping in his heart made him shift uncomfortably as he waited to hear what Ariel was going to do next. The stairs made no creaks, so he assumed that she'd gone to her room, and he took that as his cue.

Setting the laptop aside, he stood up and walked up the stairs. He took special care to make noise as he came up the creaky things; he didn't want to walk in on Ariel in a…vulnerable state. As he reached the top of the stairs, he made sure to walk with an extra heavy step, and he even released a cough, just to cover himself. Her door was cracked open, and he paused in front of it. He felt awkward and unsure of himself, hesitant. Rolling his green eyes at himself, he forced himself to lift his hand and knock.

"Ariel?" he called.

"Yeah? Yeah, come in," she replied. Her voice sounded tight and more strained than usual. Dean pushed open the door and took a few steps in. Ariel was sitting on the edge of her bed, straight up and not leaning against anything. She was dressed in a burgundy loose flowy tank top and black cotton shorts for comfort. Dean couldn't help thinking that even with her hair still wet, no make up, and just tank tops and shorts, she still looked breathtaking.

As soon as he took one look at her face, however, he couldn't ignore the paleness and the obvious discomfort overtaking her expressive features. A deep wash of concern swept over Dean, replacing the nervousness and self-consciousness he'd previously felt while standing outside of her room.

"Hey, are you ok?" he asked. Lifting a hand in dismissal, she limply nodded and forced a smile.

"Yeah, I'm ok. I didn't take any pain meds before I showered, so the pain's kind of hitting me." She lifted her navy blue eyes up to meet Dean's face, and she smiled at the worry in his eyes. "I'm a wimp when it comes to injuries."

"I've never known a hunter to be a wimp about pain," Dean answered, the concern still showing on his face. Ariel rolled her eyes and nodded in agreement.

"That's why the other female hunters give me shit," she said. "Those bitches think that just because they can cut off a vamp's head and drive a stake covered in lamb's blood in a Djinn's heart, they're super tough."

"There are other female hunters?" Dean asked in surprise, his eyebrows lifting. Ariel nodded from her seat on the bed, a scoff releasing from her mouth.

"Unfortunately. Total assholes," she muttered bitterly in response.

"Huh. Didn't know it was that popular of a career choice with the ladies." Dean grinned at her. She smiled back at him, but he could sense the discomfort and pain lying beneath her smile. "Hey, are you hungry? Do you want something to eat? I can cook."

The discomfort lessened in her features when she heard Dean say he could cook. A look of disbelief settled into her eyes, and she offered up a small laugh—at least, as big a laugh as she could with her stab wound.

"I didn't know that Dean Winchester was a chef," she answered with an impressed look across her face. "Hunter? Yes. Brother? Yes. Chef? News to me."

Dean's face changed from curiosity about her hunger to being offended. He rolled his green eyes at her and scoffed loudly, folding his arms over his broad chest.

"Please, I can cook circles around your ass. What do you want? I can whip up a mean burger." The gleam in his eyes made a genuine smile widen Ariel's mouth.

"Bacon burger?" she asked hopefully, the pain in her eyes being replaced by a lightness.

"There's no other kind of burger. Do you wanna give the stairs or a try? I can bring it up to you when I'm done," he said. Her blue eyes became determined, and her mouth set into a firm, just as determined line as she looked up at him.

"Well, I love a challenge," she drily replied. "Wanna give me a leg up?"

Dean crossed towards the bed and sat down next to her on her left, wrapping his arm underneath hers so that it was wrapped securely around her waist. Taking care to avoid her wound, he settled his hand cautiously on her ribs. He could smell the cleanness of her, her skin still hot from the hot shower she'd just taken. Her arm was stretched over the top of his shoulders, resting lightly on his right shoulder, and he felt her fingers gently pressing into the fabric of his shirt.

Without saying anything, he helped her stand up. The grimace and audible gasp of pain was obvious to him, but he knew better than to point it out to her. He slowly stood with her, and he grinned when he saw how much smaller than him she was. He'd noticed it before when she'd stood all in his personal space by the car when he'd met her that first night and then again when he'd bumped into her at the café, but he hadn't truly realized how small she really was. She was a good foot shorter than him, and she was thin and wiry. Just by looking at her, he never would've been able to guess that she kicked ass as much as she did.

"On second thought, wanna give me a leg down the stairs, too?" she asked with a small laugh. She glanced to her right to look at Dean. He was handling her with ease, showing no effort at all to help support her. His strong but gentle touch continued to astound her. There was no doubt in her mind that he wouldn't let her get hurt by helping her down the stairs, and he moved as though any amount of pressure on her skin would hurt her.

"I think I can handle that," he answered with a smirk.

Slowly but surely, he got her down the stairs and settled on the couch. Ariel released a long sigh of relief as she settled into the old familiar cushions. Her blue eyes closed, and she continued to take long, deep breaths to rid the pain. She hadn't been lying when she'd told him that she was a wimp when it came to injuries; she liked to think that she had a high tolerance for pain, and on some level she did, but she couldn't grin and bear it the way the rest of those bitchy female hunters did.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked suddenly. Dean paused, his gaze lingering on her. Her eyes were still shut, but she wasn't letting him leave just yet to get cooking. He stood up and awkwardly shrugged. She opened her eyes and looked at him with that clear, calm, sincere gaze that he'd come to associate with her.

"I don't know," he answered lamely but albeit honestly. He knew he couldn't escape the blaze of her eyes, and truthfully, he wasn't sure he wanted to. There was something about having her look at him that made him feel like he couldn't lie to her.

"Just a few days ago you were yelling at me in a parking lot, telling me you couldn't trust me, and now you're helping me down the stairs and cooking me burgers," she said carefully. He sat down in the closest chair and breathed slowly, wondering how to answer her. He had no idea how to answer the question she was asking him; something had changed. That was all there was to it. When he'd seen that she'd been stabbed, something in his brain had switched, and he couldn't explain what it was.

That wasn't to say that before she'd been stabbed, he hadn't felt a strange connection to her; he'd definitely felt something odd that had baffled him before her injury, but her injury had caused him to drop the fight he'd put up against it. She was continuing to gaze at him with that level stare, and he shrugged again.

"Honestly, I just…decided to trust you."

Ariel studied him, her wide eyes scanning over his face for any signal of insincerity that might be lingering there. Instead, she only found an earnestness that shook her, and she could only nod to acknowledge that she believed him. The pain pills were starting to fuck with her emotions, she thought, and the thought made her secretly smile to herself. She'd always been in touch with her intuitive side; that's what Bobby had always said was her strongest point when it came to hunting. She always trusted what her gut told her, and she still had yet to be wrong. Her emotions and feelings were so strong and in tune with her brain that she'd always been more open to actually feeling them instead of blocking them off—yet another reason why the other female hunters liked her. For whatever reason, they thought that in order to be a successful hunter, they had to turn off every semblance of emotion. But for Ariel, it was the total opposite.

Yet as she sat there in front of him, realizing and understanding the truthfulness behind his seven-worded statement of trust, she felt her emotions rising more powerfully than usual, and she attributed it to side effects of the pain medication that Sam had been giving her since she'd been stabbed.

"Why?" she asked. She tilted her head to the side inquisitively.

"You told us about the Furies. Gauging from Bobby's reaction when we told him you'd given us the skinny on those bitches, you don't just up and tell strangers about them," Dean replied matter of factly.

"I'm sure Bobby told you the truth then," she said slowly. Dean carefully nodded his head, watching her reaction. It remained unchanged as she received his response. Then she smiled a little.

"He's been good to me. Far too good to me," she said.

"He's been good to Sammy and me, too."

Silence passed between them, not quite an uncomfortable one rather than one that was filled with words they both wanted to say but wouldn't allow themselves to voice. Dean finally stood up, not looking at her before he turned towards the kitchen.

"I'm gonna start in on those burgers now. Don't know about you, but I'm starving. If you need anything, you know where I'll be." He walked into the kitchen, feeling those clear blues eyes on the back of his head until they'd lost sight of him completely.

* * *

"Holy fucking shit."

Ariel didn't give two fucks that she was talking with food in her mouth. She didn't give two fucks Dean could probably see her half-chewed up food in her mouth. What she _did_ give two fucks about was Dean Winchester's orgasmic bacon burger. Closing her eyes, she savored the flavor of it and let out a low hum of appreciation. Dean's musical laugh made her open her eyes, and she saw him looking the happiest that she'd seen him look since she'd known him. Granted, she hadn't known him long at all, but she figured that the older Winchester didn't have a plethora of happy moments on a day to day basis. She'd only caught a few of his smiles, but she already enjoyed seeing them. She enjoyed his wide mouth splitting into a beam so bright that it almost hurt her eyes; she enjoyed the crinkles in the corners of his eyes.

But in that moment, she most enjoyed the fact that he looked proud of himself.

"Told you I was a damn good cook," he replied with his characteristic smirk.

"I have to admit that I didn't see it coming. Color me surprised." She took another bite of her burger and closed her eyes again to enjoy it. "This makes me forget all the pain I'm in."

"Are you really hurting that badly?" Dean asked, his face sobering up at the mention of her pain. Ariel was sorry to see his smile disappear so quickly, and she shook her head swiftly to contradict her previous statement.

"No, not really. I'm just a wimp when it comes to pain. I'd love to stay racked up on that stuff, but I want to have a few hours of clarity." She waited until the softness had returned to his face in relief before she took another bite. Yes, the pills did give her clarity, but so did Dean. Her mind was a lot more clear with him around, and it was the strangest thing she'd ever experienced. She'd experienced a quick attraction to men, but she'd never experienced the sharpness that came from being near him. Being around him made her chaotic mind and emotions make a little bit more sense, as strange as it was.

They both ate the rest of their burgers in satisfied silence. Ariel hadn't realized how hungry she was until she'd smelled the burgers cooking. She really was impressed with Dean's cooking; she didn't know how to cook worth shit. On a good day, she could probably conjure up some spaghetti, and even that was pushing it. When she was done, she leaned back as comfortably as she could—and with a stab wound, that wasn't too comfortable—in her chair and watched him place the dishes in the sink.

"How'd you learn to cook like that?" she asked. He gave a nonchalant shrug, turning around to grab a swig of beer.

"Being on the road a lot, I guess. I had to learn to cook since that was the only way Sam and I got to eat when we were younger sometimes. Sometimes my dad would be gone for several days, and when that happened, that meant cooking." He glanced at the dishes and then back at her. "Do you want to go back in the living room or upstairs?"

"Living room for now," Ariel replied. He started to move towards her, but she shook her head at his advances. "I'm gonna do this one. I've gotta start getting up and around on my feet more."

"Don't push yourself," Dean said firmly. "You've only really rested for one day, and you can't just bounce back from a stab wound like that in a day."

"'Tis merely a flesh wound," she quoted back to him with an uncertain look in her eyes. Slowly, she managed to lift herself out of her own chair. She caught Dean's concerned face as he struggled with whether or not to go to her side, but she saw him make the smart decision to stand back. Step by step, she determinedly managed to make her way into the living room, and when she'd reached the couch, she eased herself down and released the breath she'd been holding. Only then did she realize that she was sweating. She gave a tiny chuckle and pressed the back of her wrist to her forehead.

"Alright, that's my work for the day," she sighed.

"You look like shit," Dean spoke up. As soon as he realized what he'd just said, his mouth dropped, and his eyes widened in horror at his own comment. Ariel laughed her careful laugh so as not to hurt herself.

"You know how to make a girl wet, Dean," she answered. Hearing that sentence and his name on her lips made Dean's blood run hot. _Seriously_? he mentally hissed at himself. _You're acting like a high school jackass with no experience_.

"I didn't actually—what I meant—you really don't—"

"Save it. You're ok." She didn't appear to be at all offended, but Dean couldn't help still feeling ashamed and embarrassed at what he'd just said.

"But—I—I really didn't mean that you look bad. You're still stunning, but you don't look like you feel—" He stopped talking and sighed, shaking his head and looking up at the ceiling with a smile. "I think I keep putting my foot in my mouth."

Ariel hadn't missed his reference to her as stunning, and she thought about pushing the issue further, but she didn't. A secret smile slipped across her mouth, pleased with herself and with Dean. He was so damn strange, and everything about the two of them so far was off kilter; it took her a long time to feel comfortable around people, but she felt comfortable around Dean in a way that took her off guard. She only felt a little self-conscious about herself, and she didn't think that any of their silences were awkward. If anything, they felt natural. She felt as if she were where she was supposed to be, and that was right next to Dean.

* * *

Dean turned the light out next to Ariel's bed. They'd spent the last few hours watching movies and making some small talk with each other about nothing of great importance until Ariel had announced that she was exhausted and wanted to catch some sleep. He'd helped her up the stairs and given her one of those pills to help her sleep. As he switched out the light, he noticed that she was already fast asleep, dead to the world.

"That's impressive," he mumbled out loud to himself. She was lying on her right side, facing the lamp and him. A few pieces of her dark blonde hair were hanging in her face, and without thinking, he reached forward and smoothed them back behind her ear. His hand froze at the contact, Dean suddenly realizing what he was doing. Even though she was still sleeping, he awkwardly took his hand back and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

_What the fuck is happening to you_? his mind screamed at him. He mentally sighed and answered himself, _I wish I knew_.

* * *

For the next week, Ariel and Dean settled into an easy pattern. He cooked, they sat together, they talked, they answered Sam and Bobby's phone calls, and they carefully went their separate ways at night. And as Ariel improved, she began to do more on her own. She started helping Dean cook, and she washed the dishes while he dried them when they were done eating. Even Dean began to feel a comfortableness with Ariel that he hadn't expected to—well, he'd expected to, but he'd been hoping to be able to fight it. This was all so crazy and overwhelming for him, and he kept putting up his walls.

But that changed one night when he was shutting the lamp off next to her bed.

Ariel was able to walk on her own and climb the stairs on her own, but Dean still walked with her, and he still turned the light off when he left her each night. And each night, he ran his hand over her hair while she was unconscious to the affection that he gave her. He was aware that he did it; it was the only physical interaction that he got with her since she'd stopped needing his help to walk or stand up. He'd come to miss the soft angles and warmth of her body, the lavender smell of her hair and her skin, the light press of her fingers into his shoulder as he supported her. He strangely missed the physical contact with her, and he got it when he smoothed her hair back while she slept.

As he switched the lamp off, he reached out with his hand and received the physical interaction he missed by touching her hair. He took his hand back and turned towards the door, stepping quietly on the floor.

"Dean?"

He froze. Panic overcame him, and his heart started thudding loudly in his chest. She hadn't been asleep, and she'd felt him touch her, and he had no idea how he was going to defend himself from that; it was creepy as shit to wake up and realize that someone had touched you without your permission, and he was panicked about what to do or say.

"Yeah?" he responded, deciding to play it safe. He turned around to look at her, even though it was dark in her room. There was still enough light that he could see her relatively clearly, and he could see that she didn't appear to be pissed off at all. She was sitting up, one hand going through her hair, and she had that same easiness calmness he'd come to associate with her.

"Will you stay with me for a while?" she asked. Her voice sounded the tiniest bit unsure, as if she thought he might say no. "I don't want to go to sleep just yet."

"Yeah. Yeah, sure, I'll stay with you," he replied quickly, moving just as quickly back to her bed. He didn't know where to sit, and he looked around awkwardly. Ariel drew her legs up and laughed, patting a spot at the bottom of her bed.

"You can sit. It's not middle school where Bobby'll come in and bust your ass if he finds you in here. And Bobby's not here anyway." The gleam in her eyes was mischievous, and Dean couldn't help smiling back at her.

"Hey, I don't want to fuck with Bobby's protectiveness. I know better than to do that," he responded. She tilted her head in the darkness to look at him. He couldn't quite see her face, but he could feel those blue eyes studying him. Unfortunately for Dean, she had the advantage of being able to see his face in the moonlight shining through the window, but he couldn't see hers.

"Good idea," she replied. "He feels about me the way you feel about that car of yours."

"No one comes between a man and his car," Dean defensively declared. "Baby's the apple of my eye."

"I'm personally a Mustang girl myself," Ariel said. Dean glanced quizzically at her, his eyebrows drawing in closer together.

"You have a Mustang?" he asked. "Why were you hopping cars then when we met up with you?"

She rolled her eyes in annoyance and let out an irritated sigh.

"The werewolf I ganked on the job before I met up with you guys ripped a new one into my car, and Bobby's fixing it right now. If I hadn't wanted to gank it because it was a monster dog, I would've wanted to gank it at that moment. That car's the pride and joy of my life. Bobby gave it to me when I was 16. Bought it off a friend and fixed it up for me." The pride was evident in her voice as she spoke.

"I just can't get over the fact that we've never run into you before," Dean said.

"I don't socialize very much. Female hunters are shitwads, and the males are chauvinistic bastards." Ariel pulled her knees into a seated criss cross position. The comforter on her bed slipped a little bit, and Dean could see her shorts and a portion of her bare thigh. He turned his head to distract himself.

"Why don't female hunters like you? Ain't one of the gals?" he cheekily questioned. She made a disgusted face and a sound as though she were throwing up.

"God, no. They don't like me because one, I'm a way better hunter than all of them put together, and two, I don't fit into their image of plaid shirts, biker boots, and beer bottles. They might be hunters, but they are still damn cliquey."

"Wait, you don't drink beer?" Dean's eyes widened in horror.

"I'm more of a wine girl." Ariel's smile was illuminated by the shadows, and Dean felt that odd flutter in his heart.

"Wine…you really are some hoity-toity beauty queen," he murmured.

"Bite me."

"Don't tempt me."

Ariel inhaled sharply at Dean's words, and she found that good tension between them to be almost unbearable. The intensity of his emerald stare was on her, and she was holding her breath, waiting for him to do or say something. Her brain was slowly being deprived of oxygen as the combined feelings of anticipation and anxiety threatened to pull her apart because she wanted Dean to do something so badly she could hardly stand it.

"Do you work alone because something happened with your partner?" Dean asked. Ariel jolted, as though she'd been touched with a live wire. Her face changed from anticipatory to pained, and Dean knew that he'd touched on something he shouldn't have.

"I just work alone," she answered stiffly. Her tone made it clear that she didn't want to talk about it anymore, and he mentally sighed, knowing that he'd fucked up. He just hadn't been thinking. He'd been looking at her—specifically her lower lip and thinking about what it'd be like to follow through on her snarky remark and bite that lower lip.

"Not anymore," he teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. The pain still lingered across her face, but it was slowly losing to the smile that threatened the corners of her mouth.

"I guess not. Believe it or not, I've always wanted to meet you and Sam. Bobby was always going on about the two of you, and he's got pictures of you, Sam, and him. You were the two hunters who were closest in age to me and would understand the life." Her voice was nostalgic as she spoke, remembering her years with the older hunter who'd taken her in.

"I'm surprised he let you be a hunter," Dean answered.

"Psh, as if Bobby could 'let' me do anything." She laughed softly. "He tried his damndest to keep me out of the life, but I told him he didn't have a choice. He was gonna teach me to hunt, or I'd run out on him."

"Shit, you knew how to drive a hard bargain even then."

"Guess I was a born hunter." Ariel straightened her legs out in front of her, the tips of her feet almost touching Dean's leg through the blanket. "What would you do if you didn't hunt?"

Dean let out a low whistle.

"That's always a hard question. Let me think." His mouth drew together, and his eyes became distant as he lost himself to his own mind. Ariel sat quietly, noticing for the millionth time how strong and handsome he looked. Finally, he smiled and looked straight at her. "I'd work with cars. I'm good with them. You have all the answers right there in front of you. Besides, a car ain't trying to kill you or possess you or something like that."

"Very honorable, Dean Winchester."

"What about you, Ariel Easton?"

"Travel journalist. I can't stay in one place for very long. I think that's the hunter's blood in me. Being a travel journalist means that you don't linger. You just move. For a while, I thought I'd like to do something normal like, I don't know—teach or something, but I don't think I'd be able to do the suburban lifestyle. House, van, kids…the whole soccer mom deal."

Dean let out a hearty laugh that warmed Ariel from the top of her blonde head to her socked feet.

"I can't ever see you being a soccer mom," he said, the laugh lingering in the green of his eyes.

"Me neither. I can sit here and talk about all the things I want to be, but I know I'll never be anything but a hunter. Once you're in, you're in. No way out." Her voice became morose, and she felt her mood dwindling down a stark depression.

"You're tellin' me," Dean agreed, a sigh coming through.

"You had no choice, though. I made the choice to be a hunter. If it's this bad for me, I can't imagine how it is for you." Ariel squinted her eyes to cut through the darkness and see him. A caution had entered his eyes, and he nodded and shrugged half-heartedly.

"Regardless, you're right: ain't no way out," he said. Ariel felt a tug in her chest that reminded her of all the loneliness she'd ever experienced since her dad had been killed and her mom had been hospitalized. She was alone throughout so much of her life, and the only real person that she could depend on was Bobby. But as she sat in the darkness of her room with Dean, she didn't feel quite so alone.

Dean's current physical distance from her was a barrier she didn't want between them anymore; it was the only barrier that was left between them. Before she could change her mind, she moved from sitting in a criss cross position to kneeling right next to him on the bed, her weight settled back on her heels. The change of position had brought her closer to Dean, and that was all she needed. His eyes were wide as he stared up at her. Tentatively, she reached out with one hand and touched his face.

His green eyes stayed open at the touch of her hand on his face, but he held his breath. He could see the need to not be alone shining in Ariel's eyes, even through the darkness, and he knew that his own need was reflected through his own. The physical contact that he wanted from her whenever he wasn't touching her was satisfying him, making his heart thump so loudly in his chest that he was sure she could hear the gentle thrum of it.

Before he knew it, his hands were on either side of her face, and he'd brought her face close to his, and he was kissing her. The moment his mouth collided with hers, he knew he'd never done anything more right in his life. Her mouth was soft and gentle against his as she returned the kiss. Suddenly, he pulled back, his eyes wide as he stared at her.

"Bobby's gonna kill me," he whispered in a low, gruff voice. His eyes stared into hers, and for a moment, she was unmoving. Then she let out a loud laugh and pressed her mouth back to his.

"Fuck it," she hummed against his lips. His tongue flicked lightly along her bottom lip, and she smiled. Her hands found their way to his chest, feeling the strong, broad muscles of his chest as she ran them up and down. She hadn't seen him shirtless yet, but she already knew he was built like a motherfucking god.

She pulled back for air, gasping for breath and laughing all at the same time.

"What are we doing?" she asked.

"I don't know, and I'm ok with that," Dean replied, a cheeky grin bringing her back down to kiss him again. His hands were lightly skimming over her hair and her shoulders, wrapping around her lower back and up again. Ariel didn't take any of his touches as sexual because hers weren't exactly sexual either, per se. It was more of a reassurance that someone was there, that the other person was solid. And Dean was solid, she thought with a smirk. There was nothing inherently passionate about the way they touched. It was tentative but reassuring. It was what she needed, and she knew it was what Dean needed, too.

For the past week and a half, she'd been trying to ignore the pull she'd felt towards him, but she'd never felt anything so wonderful as finally giving in to it. He was touching her with that calming touch of his, and she could think clearly. He was bringing her clarity just by running his hands over her skin, the light stubble of his jawline gently scraping her lips as she took his bottom lip between hers.

They both stopped, giving themselves time to breathe and process the change that happened between them. Ariel's face was right in front of Dean's, and he could see every emotion that ran over her features.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," she said back, a grin lighting up her face. She reached out with a hand and ran it over Dean's hair. She did it in such a way that Dean knew she'd been awake for every single time he'd done it to her. Surprise filled his green eyes, and her smile only widened as she tilted her head to the side.

"I knew you were brushing the hair out of my face every night," she said. Dean smirked and gave a light shrug.

"Guilty as charged," he said with a wink. She ran her hand down the side of his face, and he closed his eyes, leaning his cheek into her warm palm. The sound of her gentle breathing could lull him to sleep, he thought. She soothed him on a level he hadn't known was possible.

"I like it," she whispered to him. He opened his eyes to look at her.

"So do I."


	8. Djinn

**Shoutouts to roxylove7, tigereyekum, Melinda, and Blueskia for reviewing!**

**At this point in the story, we're getting back to the TV show. The episode that's taking place in the second half of this chapter is 2.20 - What Is and What Should Never Be. I'm using my creative license to make it relatively different than the episode itself. I know this chapter might seem like Ariel and Dean aren't having THAT much romantic action, but this episode will have a lot to do with what happens next for them in real life.**

**Please continue leaving your thoughts, opinions, suggestions, and critiques! I love getting them so I know how I can improve and make you guys happy while also staying true to the character.**

**Enjoy! =)**

* * *

Chapter 8

"Stay with me."

The whispered words weren't a plea, a request, or even an order. They were an invitation. They were an invitation so sweet and warm that Dean wasn't able to resist them. Not that he _wanted_ to resist them, but even if he had, he wouldn't have been able to say no to her.

Little did he know that that would start a pattern that would be impossible for him to break.

* * *

"Ariel? We're home! Dean?"

Ariel's eyes flew open at the sound of Bobby Singer's voice filling the house. Her whole body stiffened, and she sat up in a panic.

"Dean," she whisper-hissed to the sleeping figure next to her. "Dean, wake up!"

"Dean?" Sam called out from the bottom of the stairs. Partially from the sound of his younger brother's voice and partially from the feeling of Ariel shaking him awake, Dean's eyes snapped open, and he groggily sat up as he tried to reorient himself to the world around him. Ariel's face was in front of him, looking panicked and frantic as she hopped out of the bed.

"They're back!" she whispered hurriedly to him. The soft warmth of the night before with her was yanked away from him as he realized what she was saying: Bobby and Sam were home. Bobby and Sam were home, and he was in Ariel's bed. Lightning quick, he jumped out of the bed and started hunting for his jeans.

"My pants!" he whispered to her. "Where are my pants?"

"I don't—I don't know," she mumbled.

"Ariel? Where the hell are you?" Bobby called. Ariel's navy blue eyes were wide as she was deciding what to do. Her hands and eyes scanned over her room to find Dean's pants, but she wasn't having any luck. Neither was he. How hard was it to lose a pair of pants, she thought to herself. They hadn't even had sex last night. Hell, they hadn't even gotten naked together. Dean had only taken his jeans and button-down shirt off when they'd made the unspoken decision to go to sleep; it wasn't as though he'd ripped them off in a fit of passion to have sex with her.

"Oh, I'm up here, Bobby!" she shouted, sticking her head out of her doorway to look down the stairs. Sam was already at the bottom of the them, and he started walking up.

"Hey!" he said cheerily, his warm hazel eyes beaming up at her in that way that only a puppy dog could imitate. "You look like you're feeling better."

Ariel pulled the door closer to her, wedging herself in between the door and her doorframe as she smiled at him. She could hear Dean mumbling and rustling about in her room. She couldn't make out the exact words, but she heard something about "fucking pants" come from his lips. Keeping the amusement out of her face, she smiled pleasantly at Sam as he reached the top of the stairs.

"Yeah, I'm feeling a whole lot better," she responded smoothly. "I've been easing myself back into some shooting and stuff like that just to keep up with it. I should be ready to start hunting within a few days."

"My ass you are!" Bobby shouted from somewhere downstairs. She rolled her eyes and shot a bored, annoyed expression down the stairs to where Bobby was, even though he couldn't see her.

"Bobby, I'm fine! Sam stitched me up well, and I'm almost as good as gold!" she shouted back. "I'm 25 years old!"

"You could've gone to college! Been a doctor or a veterinarian or anything in the world, but no, you had to hunt!" Bobby loudly muttered, making sure that Ariel heard. Ariel made eye contact with Sam and shook her head, listening to the sound of the back door slamming, signaling that the older hunter had gone outside.

"What's he doing?" she asked.

"Oh, uh, the car got a little dinged. The poltergeist liked to throw trash cans."

"Speaking of, how'd the hunt go? I didn't know you guys were coming back today," she said innocently. She hoped it wasn't obvious that she was trying to stall long enough to keep Dean from being noticed. From the corner of her eye, she could see that he'd found his pants and was zipping them up. She felt a little weak in the knees at the sound of his zipper; there'd always been something about the sound of a man unzipping or zipping his pants that she'd always found attractive. Maybe because it had something to do with what was just a few centimeters away from the zipper. Especially Dean's zipper.

She coughed suddenly to distract her thoughts from going dirty as she stood in front of Sam, beaming up at him. If he seemed to notice anything fishy going on, he didn't show any sign of it.

"Yeah, we just thought we'd get an early start. And the job was ok. We had a lot of time trying to ID the poltergeist, but after we did that, we were good as gold," he said with a shrug. "I'm surprised to see you still alive after a week alone with Dean."

"His bark is worse than his bite," she cheerfully responded. She stole a quick glance at the older Winchester as he shrugged into his button down. He saw her looking, and he flashed her a quick wink. Sharply, she turned her head back to Sam so that he didn't get suspicious. Again, he didn't seem to notice anything strange, smiling pleasantly back at her.

"Speaking of, I'm gonna go see if he's awake," Sam said, gesturing with his head down the hall to the direction of the room that he and Dean generally shared whenever they stayed with Bobby. Panicked, Ariel held her hand out to stop him.

"Oh, I don't think he's awake yet," she protested quickly.

"Really? Hold on, let me call him and see if he's up." Sam whipped out his phone, and Ariel's mind went into full out panic mode. She thought about grabbing the phone from him, but that would _definitely _be too suspicious. Stuck, she had nowhere to go or anywhere to hide. She stood still in front of him as Dean's phone began to ring from inside her room. She sensed Dean frozen, too, from within her room.

At the sound that the ringing was coming from, Sam frowned, and he looked at Ariel.

"Is that—"

Before he could get his question out, she'd grabbed him and pulled him into her room, shutting the door behind her. Sam's eyes went immediately to Dean, and he froze, his eyes wide as he saw his brother.

"Uh, hey," Dean said, weakly gesturing a hello from his spot on Ariel's bed. Sam blinked at him, unmoving. "Ok…this is awkward."

"We didn't have sex," Ariel blurted out. That seemed to snap Sam out of his daze, and he balked at her declaration, taking a step back in surprise and holding his hands up in surrender.

"Oh. Um. Ok. Even if you did, it's none of my business," he said quickly. "None of my business."

"I mean, we slept together, but we didn't have sex," she continued, the words falling out of her mouth before she could stop them. Sam's hazel eyes widened, and he continued awkwardly shuffling about her small room as if by wandering around, he could find a way out.

"Didn't even get naked," Dean announced from the edge of her bed. The playful smirk on his face was half-serious, half-joking, and he was doing it more to get a rise out of Sam. Which worked. Sam made a face at his older brother.

"Dean, really? I didn't need that imagery," he muttered. Dean shrugged nonchalantly.

"Please don't say anything to Bobby," Ariel pleaded, her hands pressed together in front of her, her chin resting on the top of her intertwined fingers. Sam gave a small laugh, shaking his head so that his floppy brown hair shook around with the movement.

"Trust me, I won't be breathing a word about anything like…" he gestured around with his hand, "this to Bobby."

"Oh, thank God," Ariel breathed, putting her hand up to her forehead. "Ok. The both of you. Out. Who knows how long Bobby'll be out back with the car, so, uh, act natural I guess."

Sam laughed out loud for real then, a genuine laugh that spread across his face in sincere amusement. He raised his eyebrows as he looked back and forth between Dean and Ariel, studying the both of them with nonjudgmental eyes.

"Well, on that note," he said, sending a look to his brother that Ariel couldn't quite identify before smiling good-naturedly at her and then ducking out of her room swiftly. And then that left Ariel and Dean to themselves for the first time since their night together.

Ariel had that awkward feeling that she usually got after she'd spent the night at a guy's place and wasn't exactly sure if she should stay or leave. Jesus, they hadn't done a single thing sexual with each other; they'd touched, and they'd kissed, but no body parts had ever ventured below the waist, and no clothes were shed—aside from Dean's jeans and button down shirt right before he'd gone to sleep.

"I'm gonna brush my teeth," she suddenly announced, feeling almost shy as she hurried out of her room before Dean could say anything. She speed-walked to the bathroom and grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste when Dean appeared right next to her. Her eyes were wide as she watched him casually pick up his toothbrush and toothpaste and begin brushing his teeth, too. He gave her a cheeky grin, and she shoved her toothbrush in her mouth, brushing furiously. The mint stung her mouth, but she loved the feeling of it. It made her mouth feel clean.

She waited for Dean to rinse and spit, and then she followed suit. As she dried her toothbrush, she saw that he wasn't moving. Instead, he was blocking her way out of the bathroom, leaning one forearm against the doorframe like the cool boys always used to do in high school. However, it worked on Dean, and she felt her knees getting weak again.

Turning towards him, she looked up at him and cleared her throat.

"Well, hi," she said. Her body was only an inch from touching his, and she knew he knew it. He looked down at her, those intense green eyes seeming to pierce her to her very core. She couldn't help the smile that overcame her face, and she reached up to touch that jawline of his that fascinated her.

Dean took that as his cue, snaking his arm around her waist and drawing her body flush with his. His lips were on hers, and she couldn't fight him off even if she'd wanted to. Dean was absolutely irresistible, and she was finding that out firsthand. The kiss made her dizzy, unable to do anything else but deepen it by opening her mouth and allowing his tongue access.

"Ah, shit," Sam muttered behind Dean, causing the both of them to jump. Ariel's heart leapt up into her skull, and she covered her mouth with her hand to steady herself, a small snicker finding its way out of her as she saw Sam's disgusted, regretful expression.

Dean quickly stepped back and let Ariel pass, knowing that she was smiling even as she ducked her head and walked hurriedly back to her room. He leaned against the doorframe as Sam gazed steadily at him. Dean blinked at him. Sam blinked back. Dean blinked again.

"What?" he asked.

"Really, dude?" Sam smirked. "You do realize that Bobby practically raised her, and if he has any idea that you're trying to get in Ariel's pants, he'll fucking kill you, right?"

Dean scoffed and stepped around him to walk into the room that they shared together. Sam turned around and followed him inside, quietly shutting the door behind the two of them.

"It's fine," Dean groaned in response.

"Uh, ok. If you say so," Sam responded. "Just…you should know the risks."

"Are you gonna tell me about the birds and the bees? 'Cause if you are, I think I already figured that one out."

"Fuck you, man." Sam laughed. "I'm talking about the risks that could come with whatever it is you're doing with Ariel. But like I said. None of my business."

"Smart kid, Sammy. Smart kid."

* * *

Several days passed before Ariel was recovered enough to go hunting. In the meantime, she and Dean took advantage of every opportunity they had alone together, stealing quick kisses and laughs in each other's arms before Bobby came back into the room, whether it was with beers or with useful books. They hadn't spent the night with each other again, a fact that they both disliked, though they didn't discuss it. They hadn't even discussed what exactly was going on between them because, frankly, neither of them knew, and that was ok for the time being. Besides, it was a bit difficult to have a talk like that in Bobby's house where it was so damn hard to be by themselves just the two of them. Dean wasn't used to being attracted to a woman for more than eight hours, and he found that being around Ariel was something he was having trouble getting enough of.

Currently, he wasn't with her. He was in the Impala while she was back at the hotel with Sam, helping him research since she wanted to ease back into hunting. He had to give it to her that she was a smart hunter; instead of wanting to plunge back in headfirst without being ready, she wanted to make sure that she was on top of her game, and he admitted that he respected that about her, even if he was one of the former types of people.

The three of them had been on the job for only a day to investigate the disappearances of several people, and so far, they had a lead. Sam had mapped out all the places the people had disappeared from, and Dean was currently driving around with an eye out for anything suspicious, a description that was a bit vague since it could range from a dog staring extra hard to a flickering image of a person. Suspicious kind of covered a lot of descriptions.

Dean's phone began ringing, and he picked it up, flipping it to answer after noticing that it was Sam.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"There's a cop car outside," his brother nervously answered.

"You think it's for us?"

"I don't know."

"I don't see how. I mean, we ditched the plates, the credit cards."

Sam sighed into the phone, "They're leaving. False alarm."

"Well, see? Nothing to worry about," Dean replied smoothly, still keeping his eyes on alert while he talked.

"Yeah, being fugitives? Friggin' dance party," Sam muttered as he glanced at Ariel, her blonde head bent low as she pored over the books in front of her. She flipped through a few pages of John's journal, looking back and forth between the book she was reading and the page she'd found.

"Hey, man. Chicks dig danger vibes," Dean responded with a low chuckle, his mind turning back to Ariel despite himself.

"So you got anything yet?" Sam asked.

"Are you kidding me? How could I? You got me sifting through, like, 50 square miles of real estate here," Dean grumbled.

"Well, that's where all the victims disappeared," Sam muttered back to his brother as he took a peek over Ariel's shoulder to see what she was reading about. She pointed to two things of interest, and he nodded to signal to her that he'd made the connection.

"Yeah, well, I got diddly-squat. What about you two?" Dean questioned back.

"Just one thing. Hey, I'm gonna pass the phone to Ariel. She's looking at the books right now." Sam gave Ariel the cell phone, and she took it.

"Hey, if I weren't sure of it before, I'm pretty sure of it now. We're hunting a Djinn," she confirmed steadily, her eyes still continuing the scan the pages.

"A freakin' genie?" Dean snickered back over the phone, a mild look of disbelief crossing his face. He'd never hunted a Djinn before, but he'd heard lots of lore about them, and they weren't exactly creatures he wanted to run into when it was dark at night. Though really, now that he thought about it, most of the things he hunted, he ran into when it was dark at night.

"Yep!" Ariel replied cheerfully over the phone.

"What, you think those suckers can really grant wishes?"

"I don't know. I guess they're powerful enough. But not exactly like Barbara Eden in harem pants. I mean, Djinn have been feeding off people for centuries. They're all over the Qur'an."

"So where do these fuckers lair up?"

"Hold on, here's Sam. He's looking at that right now. I'll see you shortly, ok?"

He grinned at the sound of her voice and nodded before remembering that she couldn't see him.

"See you shortly."

"Hey, it's me again," Sam said breathlessly into the phone. "It looks like Djinns usually hide in ruins. The bigger, the better. More places to hide."

"You know, I think I saw a place a couple miles back. I think I'll go check it out," Dean said, suddenly remembering the abandoned warehouse he'd passed. He glanced into his rearview mirror, as if he could see it getting smaller and smaller behind him.

"Wait—no, no, no, no, no. Come pick us up first," Sam protested.

"Naw, I'm sure it's nothing. I just wanna take a look around." He hung the phone up before Sam could protest anything else, knowing that it would only piss his little brother off to not go along on the hunt. Really, Dean didn't want Ariel going. He knew that had she been up to speed, she would've been a perfect person to have come along, but he knew she still wasn't quite at her usual pace, and he didn't want to endanger her by having her go. It would've been useless to go get Sam and try to tell Ariel to stay put because she wouldn't; she'd want in on the action just like Dean would've if he were in her position.

He pulled up to the old structure and looked around it. Sighing deeply, he turned his car off and got out. _Here goes nothing_, he thought.

* * *

"He hung up," Sam flatly announced as he glared at his cell phone. Ariel glanced up from the books and grinned at him.

"He do that a lot?" she asked. Sam rolled his eyes and nodded.

"I guess it's older brother shit," he said, sighing as he sat on the bed across from her. She nodded her head in agreement.

"Tell me about it," she mumbled. Sam looked up, curious by her tone and what she'd said. She'd turned her attention back to the books, flipping through the pages every now and then. She looked as though she were absorbed in her research, but Sam decided he wasn't going to let her comment slip.

"Your brother was older?" he asked softly, knowing that her brother had been killed by the Furies. She paused, her hand frozen in mid-turn, and she looked up at him. There was an element of pain in her navy blue eyes, and Sam felt bad for having brought it up, but she had a small smile on her face. It was a sad smile, but it was a smile.

"Yeah," she said. "He was two years older than me. Definitely protective. He was more aware of what Dad did than I was. I mean, I knew my dad was a hunter, and I knew that he was involved with some really dangerous shit, but my brother knew a lot more about it than I did. He looked out for me."

Her voice had turned nostalgic, and the smile was still on her face. It'd been over 10 years since she'd lost her brother, but Sam could tell that the pain was still fresh for her; he knew from experience that pain didn't just suddenly leave. Pain didn't even ebb away. The pain was always there, but it could become…muted, for lack of a better word.

"He sounds great," Sam said gently. She nodded, swallowing hard and glancing back down at her books.

"Yeah, yeah. He was great," she agreed, lifting her eyes from the book in front of her to look at Sam. "He was gonna be a hunter, whether or not my dad was ok with it. I guess I would've taken up the life, whether or not the Furies intervened, but it seems I got a jumpstart on it." She tucked her pen behind her head and propped her feet up on the chair that was across the table from her. "You haven't always wanted to be a hunter, have you?"

"Hell no," Sam responded with a slight laugh, shaking his head as he made a face at her. "Hunting was the last thing in the world I wanted to do. I wanted a normal life without all the…the creepy, crawly stuff. Didn't have a choice, though."

"Your dad was intense." Ariel raised her eyebrows to further accentuate her point. "I only met him once, but he was very intense."

"That's putting it lightly." Sam grimaced.

"Family. It works in funny ways, huh?"

"Understatement of the century."

* * *

Dean was almost bored as he walked around the dripping old warehouse. He suppressed the urge to wrinkle his nose at the musty smell that attacked his nostrils every direction he faced. Glancing around him, he was sure that the place had mold just oozing in the cracks. Mold was a nasty bitch, and he hated dealing with it, smelling it, or even looking at it.

He continued walking down the dark corridor, barely taking notice of the objects around him when he felt eyes on the back of his skull. Dean had been hunting for a long enough time to recognize the feeling and to know when it was real. Slowly, he came to a halt, trying to sense where it was coming from. Jolting around, flashlight in hand, he found nothing. Nothing was standing there, but that didn't mean that nothing wasn't watching him; that didn't mean he was alone.

He began to trace his steps back from the direction he'd come, sweeping his flashlight in front of him. Suddenly, something grabbed him, and he was pinned against the glass wall behind him by something with its hands around his throat. In the dark of the warehouse, he was able to make out something with a bald head and what looked like henna tattoos trailing down its face and hands. Struggling, Dean tried with all his might to get it to let go, but that seemed to do absolutely nothing in the Djinn in front of him.

The Djinn slammed his hand against the wall so he'd drop the knife, and it opened its palm, blue light in the middle of it and brought it to Dean's forehead. A string of curse words raced through Dean's mind as he realized that he couldn't do anything; he was helpless and at the mercy of the Djinn, a completely unappealing thought. For the first time since he'd entered the building, he regretted not bringing Sammy along.

And then there was blackness.

* * *

Dean jolted awake, bolting up straight to the sounds of an old horror movie playing off to his right. He was gasping for breath, panicked, when he noticed that he was in a strange bed, he was shirtless, and he was not alone. He looked over at the movie and then to his left, where a familiar female blonde head was sleeping on his pillow. Frowning, he shifted to get a better look at her. He couldn't see the entire area of her face, but he saw enough of her cheekbone and the slope of her nose to know that it was Ariel Easton in bed with him. He swallowed hard, noticing that she was undressed, one long bare thigh exposed from beneath the sheets.

"Ariel?' he said, frantically grabbing her shoulder and shaking her until she woke up with a start.

"Dean?" she asked, blinking sleepily and rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "What time is it?"

"Where are we? Is this Vegas?" he asked. "I don't remember going to Vegas. What the fuck is going on?"

Alarmed, Ariel sat up in bed, and she stared at him as though he were crazy. Reaching out, she placed her hand on his cheek. Her palm was warm against his skin, and he fought the urge to close his eyes at the feel of her touch. Even wherever the hell he was, she had a calming effect on him.

"Are you ok? Have you been drinking?" she asked. "Honey, we're not in Vegas."

The endearment slipped so easily out of her mouth that Dean got the feeling she'd said it millions of times before. His eyebrows furrowed tightly together as he studied her. She was slowly becoming more alert as she sat in front of him, but she was also becoming more alarmed with each passing second.

"The Djinn? Is that what's happening?" he demanded.

"The fuck? A Djinn? Dean, seriously, have you been drinking?" She frowned in return at him, her navy blue eyes looking just as confused as he imagined his own eyes did. Dean hesitated before grabbing her hand and kissing the palm of it.

"I'm gonna call Sam," he said slowly. Her frown only deepened.

"Hon, it's late. You don't need to call Sam. You'll be seeing him soon anyway," she protested. Dean stared warily at her and shook his head, his hands still around her hand. From what this Ariel in front of him was implying just with her comfortable actions and endearments, they'd been together for a while, so being able to act on urges such as holding her hand wasn't strange.

"Uh, I have a question I need to ask him. I'm sorry I woke you up. Go back to sleep. I'm fine," he said, leaning forward and planting a kiss on her forehead. He could feel her steady blue gaze on the back of his head as he rushed back out into the living room.

Confused and mildly panicked, he slipped out of bed discreetly to go slip some clothes on and look around. He tried to place where he was, but he had no idea what his surroundings were. He certainly wasn't at the motel where he'd left Ariel and Sam, and he didn't appear to be in any sort of motel that he'd ever been in in his entire life.

He walked around the apartment—that's what it appeared to be—dressed in clothes that weren't his but seemed like something he'd wear, and he looked around in confused wonder. Seeing his cell phone on the counter, he hurried over to it and grabbed it, dialing Sam's number.

"Dean?" Sam answered.

"Sam?" Dean frantically asked in return.

"What's going on?" The worry in his little brother's voice was evident, and it brought relief to the older Winchester. Sam knew that something was up, and he would be able to come get him from wherever the fuck he was with weirdo Ariel. He glanced back towards the bedroom. She'd looked like Ariel, but she hadn't acted quite like the Ariel he'd gotten to know, and there was something strange about that.

"I don't know. I don't know where I am," he hissed rapidly into the phone.

"What? What happened?" The concern in Sam's voice rose, due to Dean's frantic nature and declaration of not knowing where he was, two of which were pretty serious things.

"Well, uh, the Djinn. It attacked me," Dean admitted, knowing that he was about to get a lecture from his little brother on how he should be more careful, how he should've let him come along, blah blah blah. Though really, Dean would gladly take it at this moment in time since something very weird was going on.

"The gin?" Sam's voice was confused. "You're drinking gin?"

"No, asshat," Dean snapped irritably as he paced around the living room. "The Djinn. The…scary creature, remember? It put its hand on me, and then I suddenly woke up next to Ariel, and she doesn't seem to remember. Did you let her come out her? Did the Djinn get her, too?"

"Um, what? No, Dean, nobody 'got her.' Dean, you're drunk. You're drunk-dialing me." The tone in Sam's voice had turned to irritated to match Dean's, but that only left Dean feeling even crankier and more irritated than he had in the first place.

"I am not drunk. Stop screwing around!" he hissed.

"Look, it's late, alright? Just get some sleep, and, um, I'll…see you tomorrow, ok?" Sam said diplomatically in that condescending tone of his he always used to get whenever he would occasionally call while he was at school. Dean forced himself to remain calm instead of freaking out on his younger brother; Sam knew that that was the tone of voice that pissed Dean off the most, and it really wasn't doing anything to help Dean in this fucked up situation.

"Wait, Sam! Sam!" he snapped but found that his brother had hung up. Frustrated, he shoved his phone back into his pocket when he looked over at the table and saw mail sitting on it. He crossed towards the table and noticed that the envelopes were addressed to both Dean Winchester and Ariel Easton. Dean frowned; if the envelopes were addressed to the both of them, that meant they lived together. But that wasn't the strangest part.

It was the address.

"Lawrence?" he mumbled in surprise to himself as he read "Lawrence, Kansas" written across each envelope. "What the fuck?"

"Baby?" Ariel's voice behind him made him turn to look at her, and he found her standing in a dark purple robe that made her eyes appear to be the same color. His heart picked up a little bit as he saw her looking confused still, her short blonde hair mussed up from activities that required a little bit more physical activity than sleeping, he noticed. Again, the endearment had slipped so smoothly from her mouth that it was clear she'd called him that plenty of times before, and that only confused him.

"Are you sure you're ok?" she asked, crossing towards him with a confused expression but also one of her million dollar smiles that made his heart beat extra quickly. "What are you doing up? And what the fuck were you talking about a second ago?"

"Hey, Ariel," he said, unable to hide the smile on his own face as he set the mail down to look at her. She walked closer to him, and he felt the confusion die away just the slightest bit as he studied her face. "I just—uh…"

"Aw, you can't sleep, huh?" Ariel asked, leaning forward into him and running her hands along his chest. Her blue eyes followed her hands as they smoothed out the hard muscles beneath his shirt.

"Yeah," Dean lamely replied with a forced chuckle.

"Well, why don't you come back to bed, and let's see if I can do anything to help," she suggested, her voice lowering into a suggestive whisper. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her palms heating the middle of his back as they rested lightly against his shirt. Dean gulped hard at her offer. Ariel hadn't been _quite_ this forward with him, so this was definitely a new side that he was witnessing from her.

"Sure," he responded delightedly. "Yeah. In a minute. You—you—you go ahead."

"Ok. Don't stay up too long," she said with her bright beam on her face.

"No," he agreed, nodding along with what she was saying. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, her mouth as soft and welcoming as he remembered. He wanted to keep kissing her, but he drew back, knowing that he needed to figure out what the fuck was going on. She took his head between her hands and gently kissed his forehead, turning around and heading back to their bedroom, tossing another smile over her shoulder at him.

As soon as she was gone, Dean began rushing around the room with wide eyes to look at the pictures. Sure enough, there were pictures of Ariel, there were pictures of him, and there were pictures of the two of them together. One picture showed them bundled up in coats and scarves in each other's arms, cheeks pressed together with large smiles, and another showed them toasting each other with glasses of wine.

"Wine?" Dean mumbled to himself. He looked at all of them until he got to one that made his heart stop. It wasn't a picture of him, and it wasn't a picture of Ariel. Reaching out, he took it in his hand and held it, not believing his eyes. Sure enough, the picture wasn't lying, and he dropped it, turning and running out of the apartment.

He had to go see his mom.


	9. Dreamland

**Shoutouts to roxylove7 and Melinda for reviews!**

**This chapter is mainly told from Dean's point of view since he's the one on the adventure. Here's the rest (mostly) of 2.20 - What Is and What Never Should Be. There are a decent amount of changes from the episode, so let me know what you think!**

**Oh, I also have an idea for a Castiel/OC sisfic. Would anyone be interested in reading that? If so, do you think I should write it in a universe where Ariel doesn't exist or the same one as Ariel? If y'all think you would like to read it in the same universe as Ariel, I do have ways to cover myself as to why she didn't appear in Dean's fantasy world just now. Let me know either via review or PM!**

**Please continue leaving reviews/PMs/etc! Enjoy =)**

* * *

Chapter 9

Ariel glanced at the time on her phone, frowning as she saw how late it was getting. She looked at Sam and found him with his own frown on his face as he stared at the clock. He felt her eyes on him, and he looked back at her.

"Something's wrong," he said.

"Hell yeah, something's wrong," Ariel replied with a snort. "You don't take hours to just go look at a place. I've got a bad gut feeling about this. It doesn't feel right."

"You up to walking?"

"What are you still sitting there for? Waiting on you, Sam." She tossed him a grin as she shrugged into her sweater. He pulled his gun and flashlight from underneath his pillow, holding them up to her as if he were showcasing them both.

"Let's roll."

* * *

Dean had had the best day of his life. All those years of wondering what it would be like to grow up as a normal person and to have a normal life with a normal family had been hell for him, but he'd finally gotten it. He'd finally gotten to live his life like one of the people he saved. It seemed to even be the truth with Ariel; he'd been texting with her all day, and she'd given no indication at all that she was a hunter.

He downed a swallow of his beer when he saw a car pull up.

"I don't believe it," he murmured out loud to himself as he observed his brother and, well, his brother's girlfriend. He'd only seen Jessica once in his life, but he sure as hell remembered the girl with the long, curly blonde hair. He also remembered what she looked like pinned to the ceiling on fire.

He pushed the thoughts out of his head and stood up to go greet Sam and Jessica. He dashed towards the both of them, wrapping Jessica in a big hug as soon as he saw her. He wrapped his arms around her, inferring from the stiffness of her body and the strange noise she made that he probably didn't give her hugs all that often.

"Jessica!" he exclaimed happily.

"Ah! You're uh—good to see you, too, Dean. Can't breathe. Ok," the blonde said with a forced laugh. Dean chuckled genuinely and released her, taking an extra long look at her. The happiness he felt consuming him was enough to make him want to explode; the past two years had been nothing but hell, especially for Sam, and he wanted nothing more than to see his little brother happy. Being with Jessica had made Sam happy.

"Sammy!" Dean greeted as he released Jess and turned to face his tall little brother. The first thing he noticed was how…douche-like Sam was dressed. He definitely looked the part of douchebag Stanford law student he'd almost been, but he still had that same long hair he refused to let Dean cut.

"Dean," Sam greeted back politely. Dean noticed a distant quality to his younger brother that didn't seem to quite fit, but he decided that it was probably just his imagination. Sammy just needed to warm up a little bit first.

"Look at you," he declared as he gave Sam a good-natured shoulder shove. Sam didn't return it, instead keeping his stiff demeanor about him with an almost forced smile on his face. "You're with Jessica...it's—I don't believe it."

"Yeah," Sam returned in his continued polite tone but with an element of confusion added to it as he studied Dean.

"Where'd you guys just come from?" Dean asked.

"We just flew in from…Califor—" Sam had an odd look on his face, as though Dean should know where they'd just come from.

"California! Stanford, huh? Law school, I bet," Dean interrupted before Sam could finish his sentence. His younger brother's face seemed to fall, even though he gave a light chuckle. His hazel eyes focused on the beer bottle in Dean's hand, and he gestured towards it.

"I see you started off Mom's birthday with a bang, as usual," he pointedly remarked. Dean completely missed the dig Sam was making, staring at his brother as he realized that he'd made a very big mistake.

"Wait, Mom's birthday? That's—that's today?" he asked, his smile slowing fading.

"Yeah. Yeah, Dean. That's today. That's why we're here. Don't tell me you forgot," Sam replied incredulously.

A car honked behind Dean before he had time to reply. He turned around to see Ariel in a relatively new-looking car. She waved her hand and smiled as she turned the car off, reaching over into the passenger's seat for something. Stepping out of the car, she was carrying a bottle of wine and a gift bag with pink tissue paper coming out the top.

"Nope. Nope, I didn't forget," Dean said with a smirk as he glanced over his shoulder at his righteous little brother. Ariel crossed towards him, her big beaming smile bright as a beacon of light.

"Hey!" she called out to him, reaching an arm out to circle around his waist as she gave him a kiss on the cheek before stepping around him to hug Sam and Jessica. "It's so nice to see you two again. You both look great."

"Yeah, it's great to see you, too, Ariel," Sam replied with his too polite smile as he returned her hug. She hugged Jessica, who was slightly warmer in her greeting than Sam had been. Ariel took one of Jess's curls between her fingers and sighed.

"Whenever I see your hair, it makes me want to grow mine out again. It's so beautiful," she wistfully sighed. Jess gave a nervous laugh and shook her head, stepping back to gesture at Ariel's hair.

"But you look so good with it short. Really, my hair's just a mess," she replied.

"As _thrilling_ as this conversation is, why don't we head inside?" Dean interrupted, finding it slightly strange to see Ariel so girly and bouncy. In real life—he was assuming that this wasn't real life because it was too fucking good to be true—Ariel had a certain feminine quality that set her apart from other female hunters, hence why she didn't get along with them, she'd said. But still. Watching her so animated and, well, female with someone as female and girly as she was was a bit strange for Dean.

He took the bottle of wine from Ariel's hand, reaching out for her now free palm to grasp in his. The action felt natural between them, and he wondered how many times he'd gotten to hold her hand in the past. He'd never held it in real life, aside from when she'd been stabbed and bleeding in the backseat of the Impala, but he felt the natural quality to it as he held her small hand in his own large one.

"How was your day?" he asked as they walked towards the house, following behind Sam and Jess.

"The usual, you know. I missed you, but I think it was nice that you spent time with your mom today. Did you have fun?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah! Yeah! It was…it was great," he answered honestly, not knowing how else to describe this perfect day than "great." Words just couldn't describe it, and he knew he'd be able to find the words, even if they did exist.

They crossed into the house, and he shut the door behind him. Mary was hugging Sam and Jessica, welcoming them back warmly. Dean noticed by the way she looked at Sam that she probably didn't get to see him that often. A frown ghosted across Dean's face as he caught that little detail, but he didn't dwell on it. Instead, he slung his arm around Ariel's shoulders and moved further into the living room with her.

"Ariel!" Mary greeted happily as she hugged the blonde, causing Dean to take his arm away from her.

"We come bearing gifts!" Ariel replied with a giggle while hugging Mary back. A hard lump formed in the back of Dean's throat as he watched his mom and Ariel hugging each other as if they'd known each other for a long time. He'd never be able to get that in real life.

"Oh, it's great seeing all of you here," Mary sighed and reached out to touch Dean's face as she nostalgically looked at her boys and their girlfriends. A quiet smile was on her face, and Dean wondered if she were wishing that John were there with them. He'd received the hard news earlier that evening that his father had died of a heart attack the year before. Crazy how things worked, he thought to himself.

* * *

"So, uh, you and Dean, huh?" Sam asked awkwardly as he and Ariel walked by the side of the road to their destination. She glanced at him and noticed that he kept his gaze forward, purposely trying not to look at her. She smirked and looked back down at the ground. _One foot in front of the other_.

"Uh, I don't know," she replied just as awkwardly with a shrug. "It's not exactly…an orthodox thing."

"You like him?" Sam asked earnestly. She shrugged again; this time it was her turn to avoid looking at her walking partner.

"He's not half bad," she answered in an ambiguous tone. She purposely didn't want to reveal too much to the younger Winchester; it wasn't as though she didn't trust him. After the incident with the demons and getting stabbed, she'd come to trust both of them a hell of a lot more than she'd expected, but this conversation screamed all kinds of things she wasn't quite ready to discuss even with herself just yet.

"If you think he's not half bad, you've gotta like him a lot." Sam let out a jovial laugh. His pace was slower than his usual gait so that he didn't leave Ariel behind. She didn't have quite the height on him as Dean did.

"Oh, you know. Not half bad," she repeated with a grin. "Not entirely."

* * *

"I hate places like this," Dean mumbled quietly to Ariel. She was seated next to him looking radiant and lovely in a light grey dress that brought out her navy blue eyes. She snickered at his words, giving him a light punch against his thigh beneath the table.

"Please, it's not that bad," she murmured back. Her eyes darted around the table to make sure that no one was listening to their conversation. Mary was listening to Sam talk about one of his classes that he was taking—he was saying something about a dick professor, it seemed—and Jess was hanging onto every word Sam was saying as if Sam were the greatest thing since sliced bread. Dean followed her gaze and grinned.

"Winchester Family Dinner," he remarked.

Suddenly, over his left shoulder, a plate with some nasty ass looking asparagus was placed in front of him. He could feel everyone's eyes on him to see what he was going to say in response to it. He cleared his throat and tried to nod appreciatively towards the ugly meal.

"Wow. That…looks awesome." His tone showed that he was trying, and he put on a small smile to make it seem as though he were genuine. Everyone laughed at his less than thrilled exclamation, and he sneaked a quick look at Ariel to see her covering her mouth with her hand to hide her discreet snickers.

"Alright. To Mom. Happy birthday," Sam interrupted. He lifted his wine glass in a toast, and everyone followed. Dean looked at his mom for the millionth time that day, and he was still surprised to see her. She was so beautiful, everything he remembered about her and more. Again, that hard lump in his throat arose, and he quietly cleared it to keep his emotions at bay while he was at dinner.

"Happy birthday," Jess said.

"Thank you," Mary answered her with a warm smile.

"Yeah, happy birthday. This is so great," Ariel said, beaming her bright grin at Mary.

"To Mom," Dean agreed. He saw Sam and Jess kiss, and he took his cue, turning towards Ariel and giving her a chaste, sweet kiss on the lips.

"Are you sure you're ok?" she asked as she pulled back, a slight frown drawing her eyebrows together the tiniest bit. "I was really worried about you last night."

"Oh, I'm—I'm good," he answered vaguely with a shrug.

"Ok. How 'bout you and me grab us some bacon burgers later?" she asked with a wink. His face lit up, and he found his heart melting as he looked at her cheeky grin and her open, honest face.

"Oh, God, yes," he groaned in delight. "How did I end up with such a cool chick?"

"I've just got low standards," she said back earnestly, but the smirk in her eyes told her she was joking. He laughed and leaned forward to kiss her again, lingering for a few more extra seconds. The taste of wine was on her lips, though he could've gotten intoxicated off of her alone without the wine.

"Alright. Jess and I actually have another surprise for Mom's birthday," Sam announced as everyone finished their private moments. Dean shot Ariel a curious glance, and she shrugged with a confused look on her face as well.

"Ah…you wanna tell them?" Sam asked and glanced towards Jess to see if she wanted to do the honors.

"They're _your_ family," Jessica answered. While she was smiling, she looked a bit embarrassed at having been put on the spot, and Dean picked up on it.

"What? Tell me what?" Mary asked. The smile on her face said that she suspected, but Dean only looked more confused as he looked amongst everyone at the table to see if he had a clue. Sam then grabbed Jessica's hand and held it out so they all could see. A ring sat sparkling brightly on Jess's left ring finger. Mary instantly started excitedly congratulating the two, and Dean couldn't even help smiling. Ariel got up to hug Sam and Jess to congratulate them, but Dean found he couldn't move just yet. He watched Sam hug Mary, and he saw his mom whisper something in Sam's ear before he could get up.

"Congratulations, Sammy," he said sincerely and stuck his hand out to shake Sam's.

"Thanks," Sam responded, not quite meeting Dean's eyes.

"I'm really glad you're happy." The words and the seriousness in Dean's voice were out before he could stop to think about them. The look on Sam's face showed that he was confused by Dean's intensity, but he only smiled back at his younger brother. That was the only thing he really _could_ do.

Then suddenly, over Sam's shoulder, Dean saw the girl that he'd seen earlier that day. She was dirtier than the last time he'd seen her, and she was staring straight at him. A frown came over his face as he tried to place her, tried to make sense of her presence. For a moment, it was as if she weren't even real, but it was clear that she was. Without another word, he pushed past Sam and began walking towards her. He wasn't going to let this girl escape _this _time. There was something fishy going on, and he could tell that she had something to do with it.

Someone crossed in his path, and by the time he'd gotten around the guy, the girl was gone. Frustration and irritation flashed over him, and he let out an audible sigh of annoyance. He'd been so close to getting some answers. Was she a ghost? What did she want? Was she trying to tell him something? Thousands of questions were racing through his mind, and he'd just missed his opportunity to get the answers.

He turned around. His whole family was looking hard at him, perplexed expressions on their concerned, familiar faces. He couldn't quite meet his brother's eyes as he walked back to them and pulled Ariel to his side, allowing the smell of her shampoo to take his mind away from the strange thing that had just happened.

* * *

"So, Dean, what was—uh, what was all that back at the restaurant?" Sam asked, walking a little away from the family as they walked through the door of Mary's house. His hands were tucked in his pockets, and his voice was laced with concern. Dean could only imagine what Sam was thinking: something was wrong. And truthfully, something _was_ wrong. Just not in the way that Sam was seeming to understand.

"I—I thought I saw someone. I'm sure it was nothing," Dean brushed off casually, turning his attention back to the ladies.

"Well, I had a lovely birthday. Thank you. Good night." Mary smiled warmly at everyone, giving a little wave goodbye before she went upstairs.

"Good night," Dean responded, his voice mixing in with everyone else chiming in.

"'Night, Mom," Sam said with a smile that seemed stiff and rigid in his face, Dean noticed. Sam looked at Jess. "Yeah, well, I'm beat. Ready to turn in?"

"Sure," Jess answered.

"Alright. Good night, guys."

"Wait a second—wait a second," Dean protested. "Come on, it's not even nine o'clock yet. Let's, uh, let's go have a drink or something!"

"Yeah, yeah, maybe another time." Sam tried to make his voice sound regretful, but all he succeeded in doing was making himself look and sound even more stiff and rigid than he'd been doing all night.

"Come on, man. Look at us, huh? We both have beautiful women on our arms—"

"Sexist bullshit, Dean," Ariel interrupted, shooting Dean a pointed look. He held his hand up in surrender.

"Rephrasing: We both have beautiful women we're proud of. You're engaged." He smacked Sam's shoulder jovially. "Let's go celebrate!"

He looked at Ariel, checking back in with her to see if his revised statement was better, and she gave him a thumbs up. There was an awkward silence as Sam studied Dean hard. Finally, he looked down and then back up, his gaze not really hitting Dean's face as he spoke.

"Guys, can you excuse us? I just wanna talk to my brother for a sec," he said. While his tone was polite, it was loaded with all kinds of negative undertones that only confused Dean even more. This wasn't at all the younger brother that he knew; the Sam in front of him seemed more like a robot of Sam instead of _actually_ Sam.

"Come on, Ariel," Jess said, gesturing towards Ariel to leave the brothers alone. Dean saw Ariel give Jess an annoyed look in return, but she followed the long-haired blonde out of the room.

"Come here," Sam said as soon as the two women were gone. He crossed to the other side of the living room, his face hard with every trace of politeness gone.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Ok. What's gotten into you?" Sam asked bluntly. Dean frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean…this whole warm, fuzzy ecstasy trip thing."

"I'm just happy for you, Sammy." Dean offered his younger brother and smile and clapped him on the shoulder again. Sam looked at the spot where Dean's hand had landed, as though he couldn't understand why in the world Dean would've made such a gesture.

"Yeah, right. That's another thing. Since when do you call me Sammy?" Sam paused. "Dean, come on. We don't talk outside of holidays."

"We don't?" Dean asked in shock, the pitch of his voice rising slightly. "Well, we should. I mean, I'm your brother." He gave a small laugh to lighten the obviously building tension.

"'You're my brother?'" Sam quoted back in disbelief.

"Yeah!" Dean exclaimed with another chuckle.

"You know, that's what you said when you snaked my ATM card, or when you bailed on my graduation, or when you hooked up with Rachel Nave, or when Ariel rolls her eyes at Jess," Sam responded, his voice becoming increasingly more negative as he continued.

"Who?" Dean asked.

"Uh, my prom date. On prom night," Sam deadpanned.

"Yeah, that does kinda sound like me," Dean admitted. "Well, hey, man, I'm sorry about all that. Hey, what do you mean Ariel 'rolls her eyes at Jess'?"

"Come on, don't play stupid. I know you see every time Ariel rolls her eyes at Jess. It's like she thinks she's better than Jess or something," Sam argues. Dean scoffed and rolled his own eyes at Sam.

"I don't think she does," he protested. "Besides, don't look at _me_. I can't control whatever she does. She's a wild one."

Sam laughed harshly, "Yeah, you can say that again."

Dean glared at Sam, but he didn't press the issue. Things were already strange enough with his brother without bringing in girlfriend problems. That was such a high school thing to do, anyway, and Dean didn't want to bring back high school moments.

"Look, man. I'm sorry. I really am. I'm sorry about all of it," he said sincerely, a hint of pleading in his voice. For what he was pleading Sam, he didn't know. To go back to being the Sam he knew, to be forgiven for everything he'd done. He didn't know.

"No, that—look, it's all right, man. I—I just…you know, I'm not asking you to change. I—I just—uh—I don't know…I…guess we just don't really have anything in common, you know?" Sam finally finished lamely, the energy seeming to run out of the confrontational stance he'd taken when he'd first pulled Dean aside. Dean blinked as he tried to process what Sam was saying. Sam walked past him, clearly signaling that he was done with the conversation, but Dean wasn't done just yet.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Yes, we do. Yes, we do," he insisted and gave a short laugh.

"What?" Sam asked, though it was obvious that he was waiting for Dean to fail in listing what it was that they had in common.

"Hunting," Dean pointed out firmly.

"Hunting? I've never been hunting in my life, Dean," Sam tiredly argued, the exhaustion showing through in his voice and his face. Dean felt a slap of surprise across his face, but he fought to keep his cool so as not to alert Sam to the fact that everything was totally fucking wrong.

"Yeah, well, we should go it sometime," he said lamely. "I—I think you'd be great at it."

"Get some rest," Sam said and walked away. Dean was left to himself to wonder what the fuck had happened between him and Sam to make Sam so cold. Shit, he wondered what the fuck had happened to make Sam so cold in general. This Sam was nothing at all like the Sam that he knew in real life. If he even knew what real life was anymore, he thought with a frown marring his face.

"Ariel?" he called. "You ready to go, honey?"

He found that the endearment slipped easily out of his own mouth, just as easily as it had hers earlier that morning. She poked her head around the corner, a piece of short blonde hair hanging in her face.

"Yeah! Yeah, I am. I was just saying bye to Jessica, anyway." She ducked back around the corner away from sight, and he stood by the door waiting for her. Jess waved at him after hugging Ariel, and he waved back. Ariel crossed towards him, a pleasant smile on her face as he held the door open for her, and she walked through it.

As soon as the door was tightly closed, she let out a small groan and rolled her eyes.

"God, I can't stand her," she murmured. Dean laughed genuinely, the first real laugh that he'd let loose for the past few hours. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close to him and feeling the way she comfortably fit against his body. Her soft curves molded into him, and he kissed her temple quickly as they began walking to her car.

"Yeah, that's right, you don't like Jess," he answered vaguely.

"She's just—I don't know what it is. I can never place it, but she's too—too something. I don't know. She acts like she thinks she's better than me, and I hate that," she grumbled. "Just because Sam's this hotshot law student."

Dean snickered. "That sums him up just right."

"And fuck her hair. I'm just saying that because I'm jealous and like her hair, but fuck it!" she exclaimed while Dean laughed appreciately. Even though she wasn't quite the same Ariel as he knew in real life, she was still pretty fiery and similar to the Ariel he was familiar with. She pulled herself up from underneath Dean's arm and leaned with her back against her car. She let out a sigh. "Bacon burgers on the way home?"

"Hell yeah. I'll swing through someplace on the way back. Just get home safe, ok?" he asked and leaned down to kiss her. Her hand wrapped around the back of his neck, and she nodded against his lips.

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too."

* * *

Dean drove through the nearest burger joint to get bacon burgers for both him and Ariel. He hadn't realized how hungry he actually was, but after the awful dinner he'd had, he was starving, the smell of the bacon burgers making his mouth water on the way back to his apartment. His apartment. A place that he could really call home. It was a strange thought to have one single, stationary place to live. He hadn't had that in God knew how long, and it was just…different.

He pulled into the apartment complex and walked into his apartment, seeing Ariel on the couch with a glass of wine in her hand and an open beer on the coffee table in front of her.

"Hey, Beauty Queen," he greeted. She grinned at him and held up the bottle of beer. "My favorite. I guess you know me pretty well."

"'Fraid so. I'm sorry I keep asking, but are you _sure_ you're all right?" she asked hesitantly. Dean thought about telling her he was fine, but he saw the earnest openness of her navy blue eyes, and he thought back to all the moments they'd shared together. Well, technically, he was thinking about real life Ariel, but this Ariel and real life Ariel were kind of the same thing…right?

"Sammy and I…we don't get along," he said finally. He crossed towards the coffee table and sat down next to Ariel. She'd changed out of her dress from dinner, and she was dressed in black cotton shorts and an old t-shirt of his. He noticed that, and a small smile settled across his lips as he thought about how good she looked in his clothes.

"Well, you don't really spend a lot of time together. I mean, I just think you don't know each other all that well," she said comfortingly. Dean nodded as he considered her words. "For the record: he doesn't know shit about what he's missing."

"I can fix things with Sam. I can make it up to him. To everyone," he said sincerely. She frowned and scooted closer to him. She placed one hand on his shoulder and lightly rubbed it.

"What are you talking about?" she asked. "What's gotten into you lately?"

"This isn't gonna make a lick of sense to you," Dean sighed. "But I kind of feel like I've been given a second chance, and I don't wanna waste it."

She tilted her head, studying him hard, and she nodded slowly as she processed his words. "I think I can understand. Starting over. But—but why do you feel like you've gotten this second chance? What's happened to you?"

"I wish I could tell you," Dean said softly. He lifted his green eyes and met her blue ones. She gently took his face between her hands and kissed him. Her hands skimmed over his jawline, and she trailed kisses behind her hands, leaving him breathless at the flutter of her lips.

"You know, I get it," he said with a smile.

"Get what?" she asked, her mouth near his ear.

"Why you're the one," he said seriously. She pulled back to look at him, tilting her head again and smiling. Her blue eyes seared his soul in the best way possible, and he knew without a doubt that this was a sign.

"Well, whatever's gotten into you…I like it." She kissed him deeply. "Ohhhhh, come on! Don't do this to me now. I've gotta get ready for work."

She reluctantly stood up, and she smoothed her hand over his hair as she stood.

"You gotta work now?" Dean asked in surprise.

"I told you. I've got the night shifts on Thursday," she replied, shooting him a perplexed look.

"You work nights at the, uh…" He stood up and followed her into their bedroom where she started changing into an outfit that was laid out on the bed. He looked at them and saw that she was holding scrubs. "…hospital. I'm dating a nurse. That is so…respectable."

"Just another casual day saving people," she said over her shoulder. When she saw him staring at her, she wrinkled her nose and stuck the tip of her tongue out at him.

"Yeah. I know about that," he murmured. "I know about that more than I want to."

* * *

"Where the fuck _is_ this place?" Ariel grumbled with a frustrated sigh. "It feels like we've walked for miles and nothing."

"If I'm correct, it's gotta be around here somewhere. Don't you remember seeing it earlier? There was only one rundown place that I remember seeing, so it's gotta be where Dean is," Sam replied as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "This would all be so much easier if we had a car."

Ariel stopped. "So let's jack one."

"We're almost there," Sam protested.

"So? We could be walking in the completely opposite direction, and with a car, we can turn around a hell of a lot faster," she replied. "Come on, there's a neighborhood across the street. We've gotta move quickly."

"Please," Sam scoffed, "I've been lifting cars for years."

"Yeah, is that a challenge?" Ariel asked with a mischievous grin. "Who do you think can jack and wire the car fastest?"

"Ten bucks says I can," Sam replied quickly, his eyes reflecting his own mischievous grin.

"You're on."

* * *

Dean couldn't fight the panicky feeling that was overcoming him. He'd seen that strange girl from the restaurant again, and he was definitely getting all kinds of visions about people hanging from their wrists, as he'd seen when he'd opened the closet door. There was something really fucking wrong, and it had to do with the Djinn and why it'd sent him here.

And on top of all that, he'd just realized that every person he'd ever saved on a case had been killed because neither he nor Sam had been there to save any of them. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of people had died because he hadn't saved them. In the back of his mind, he could hear Ariel's mantra about how the most important thing was to save people. He'd always agreed that it was important, but now he understood just _how_ important he and Sam had been in the lives of the people they'd saved.

He stood over his father's grave. It was nighttime, and he was staring down at the headstone that marked all that was left of John Winchester. It was strange to see his dad having a grave marker; he and Sam had given John a proper hunter's funeral, and there wasn't any kind of marker to show to future generations that John Winchester had, indeed, lived, and he had, indeed, died.

"All of them. Everyone that you saved. Everyone Sammy and I saved. Hell, probably everyone Ariel saved since she's not a hunter here, either. They're all dead. And there's this woman, that's haunting me. I don't know why. I don't know what the connection is. Not yet, anyway. It's like my old life is—is coming after me or something. Like it—like it doesn't want me to be happy. 'Course I know what you'd say. Well, not the you that played softball but... 'So go hunt the Djinn. He put you here. It can put you back. Your happiness for all those people's lives. No contest. Right?' But _why_? Why is it _my_ job to save these people? Why do _I_ have to be some kind of hero?" Dean began choking on his words. "What about us, huh? What, Mom's not supposed to live her life? Sammy's not supposed to get married? I'm not supposed to be happy with the one woman who seems to be right for me? Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad" He paused, and despite himself, tears began coming down his face. "Its's…yeah..."

He was silent, wiping his hand over his face to dry his tears. As he stared at John's grave, he knew what he had to do.

* * *

"Dean, you picked me up from work, telling me it was an emergency for _this_?" Ariel snapped from the backseat of the Impala. Dean glanced at Sam in the passenger's seat and then back at Ariel. Her eyes were no longer sweet and sympathetic; they were annoyed and confused with everything that was happening. He sighed.

"I'm telling you—I'm not crazy," he said. "You've gotta trust me. Have I ever given you reason not to trust me before?" She considered his question, pressing her mouth together in a firm, thin line. "I thought so."

"If I lose my job—"

"You won't," he insisted. Sam sighed from his side of the Impala.

"Look, Dean," he said. "We're now in Illinois, in the middle of nowhere hunting a…a what?"

"A Djinn."

"Ok. We're in the middle of nowhere Illinois and hunting a Djinn. You think something's in there?"

"I know it is." Dean got out of the car, determination set on his face as he walked into the building. He heard Sam and Ariel rustling around to get out of the car, slamming the doors behind them. All three of them slowly and quietly advanced into the warehouse. Dean took a look at Ariel, finding her looking slightly apprehensive about all of this. Surprisingly, for someone who had never hunted before—at least in this version of his life—she didn't seem _that_ freaked out by abandoned warehouses.

Dean lead the way into the room where he'd been attacked by the Djinn.

"See? There's nothing here, Dean. Come on. Let—let's just go," Sam spoke up. Dean began tracing his steps, Ariel and Sam hot on his heels with each step. His senses were on high alert as he swiftly walked through the halls. He knew the son of a bitch was in there somewhere; he just had to find it. Suddenly, a sound caught all of their attention.

"What the fuck was that?" Ariel hissed.

"Stay behind me, and keep your mouth shut," he warned. He kept his arm out so that Sam and Ariel would, indeed, stay behind him. Even if this Ariel wasn't 100% real life Ariel, he knew that she was impulsive, and there was a chance she'd leap on her instincts if she thought she had the chance. And if that instinct was to attack the Djinn when she had no knowledge of Djinns, he wasn't going to let her do it that easily.

Dean moved towards a large, open room. There in front of him were the bodies that he'd seen in his closet earlier. Relief swept through his body as he realized that he wasn't completely insane.

"What the hell?" Sam mumbled.

"What the fuck is more like it," Ariel corrected. Dean's eyes widened as he saw the woman from the restaurant in front of him. She was strung up like the other people, and her eyes were open, but she looked as though she were close to death.

"It's her," he said quietly. The woman began to make sounds, moaning softly.

"Dean, what's going on?" Sam asked in a panic.

"Shh!" Dean hissed and grabbed Sam and Ariel. Holding them, he ducked the three of them all off to the side. Sure enough, the Djinn stalked in, and he walked in sight of the dangling, alive girl.

"Where's my dad?" she whimpered. "I won't tell…don't. Where's my dad?"

"Sleep," the Djinn intoned. "Sleep. Sleep."

Dean watched as the blue flames came from the Djinn's hand, sending the girl to sleep. Then the Djinn took the IV bag of blood next to her and began drinking. He felt Ariel balk against him, one hand clutching his shoulder. He felt even Sam jerk back in surprise, gagging. The Djinn's eyes flashed to their spot at the sound. Dean quickly urged Ariel and Sam to relocate, gone by the time the Djinn had reached them.

Dean's heart was pounding in his chest. He was so close to freedom. He was so close. Looking at the girl, he wondered if that was what he looked like in real life: strung up and half dead. He only hoped that Sam and Ariel were looking for him. Again, he wished that he'd brought at least Sam along with him for back up. He wouldn't have gotten into this shithole if he'd had his brother with him.

The Djinn turned and went up the stairs, exiting the room.

"This is real? You're not crazy?" Sam frantically breathed.

"She didn't know where she was. She thought she was with her father," Dean said thoughtfully out loud as he looked harder at the knocked out girl. He walked out from his hiding place, crossing to stand in front of the girl. "What if that's what the Djinn does? It doesn't grant you a wish, it just makes you think it has."

"Dean, that thing can come back, alright?" Ariel asked from his side.

A light bulb had caught his attention, and he crossed towards it. His green eyes were glued to it as he stared up at it. Suddenly, he had flashes of seeing himself strung up like that with an IV bag full of his blood attached to him, and he started to gasp jerkily. He barely registered Ariel by his side, grabbing his arm and saying his name.

"Dean? Dean," she was saying.

"What if I'm like her? What if I'm tied up in here someplace? What if all this is in my head?" he choked out. "I mean, it could, you know. Maybe it gives us some kind of supernatural acid and then just feeds on us slow."

"No. Dean, that doesn't make sense, ok?' Sam asked in an exasperated tone.

"What if that's why she keeps appearing to me? She's not a spirit. It's—it's like more and more, like I'm catching flashes of reality. You know, like I'm in here somewhere, and I'm—I'm catatonic, and I'm taking all this stuff in, but I—but I can't snap out of it."

"Yeah. Ok. Look. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're right. I was wrong. You're not crazy, but we—we—we need to get out of here. Fast." Sam was talking quickly and urgently, trying to get Dean to leave, but Dean knew he couldn't leave. Sam began pulling on his arm, but Dean pulled it away from his brother.

"I don't think you're real," he said. Sam inhaled sharply.

"Dude, you feel that?" He shook Dean. "You feel this? I'm real. This is not an acid trip. I'm real, and that thing is gonna come down here and kill us for real. Now, please—"

"There's one way to be sure." Dean pulled out the silver knife, holding it out and surveying it in the low light of the room.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the fuck are you doing?" Ariel hissed.

"It's an old wives' tale," Dean explained calmly. "If you're about to die in a dream, you wake up."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no. That's crazy, alright?" she asked, a touch of panic in her voice.

"Maybe," Dean replied.

"You're gonna kill yourself," Sam protested, walking forward. Dean held his hand up to stop Sam, and his younger brother paused. "Ok."

"Or I'm gonna wake up," Dean pressed. "One or the other."

"Ok. This isn't a dream, alright? I'm here. With you. Now. And you're about to kill yourself, Dean," Ariel said, the panic rising to a franticness he'd only heard from her in the back of the Impala when she had a stab wound.

"No, I'm pretty sure." Dean paused, thinking over the number. "Like, 90% sure. But I'm sure enough." He held the knife, ready to plunge it into himself.

"Wait!" Sam shouted. Mary suddenly appeared, and Dean felt his confidence waver. "Why'd you have to keep digging? Why couldn't you have left well enough alone?"

Jess appeared.

"You were happy," Ariel said softly. "Baby, put the knife down."

"Put the knife down, honey," Mary spoke up.

"You're not real," Dean said firmly, tears filling his eyes as he looked at his mom. "None of it is."

"It doesn't matter. It's still better than anything you had," Mary gently protested.

"What?" Dean asked.

"It's everything you want. We're a family again. Let's go home," she said.

"Dean, baby, come home with me," Ariel begged. Dean looked sorrowfully at her and shook his head.

"I'll die, Ariel. The Djinn'll…drain the life out of me in a couple of days. You're a hunter. You know this."

"But, in here, with us, it'll feel like years," Mary begged. "Like a lifetime. I promise. No more pain." She reached out and touched his cheek gently. "Or fear. Just love and comfort. And safety. Dean, stay with us. Get some rest."

"You don't have to worry about Sam anymore," Jessica interjected. "You get to watch him live a full life."

"We can have a future together," Ariel added. "In here, you're with me. We're together, and we're happy. We can have our own family. Dean, I love you. Please." She put her hands on his cheeks and kissed him. "Please. Why is it our jobs to save everyone? Haven't we done enough?"

The pain in Dean's chest threatened to tear him apart. He closed his eyes, and he tried to remember what it was like to feel Ariel love him so strongly that she would beg him to stay with her and create a family with her. He wasn't sure what he would go back to when he woke up, and the promise of a family with her and his mom and his brother was so tempting that he almost gave in. He opened his eyes and looked at Sam.

"I'm begging you," Sam said, his hazel eyes wide with that puppy dog look that only he could give. "Give me the knife."

Dean touched Ariel's face, feeling the softness of her cheek beneath his hand. He pulled back and looked at her straight on. Her navy blue eyes were filled with tears, filled with hurt and desperation and betrayal.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. And then he raised the knife and plunged it into his stomach.

* * *

"Dean! Dean! Jesus Christ, Dean!"

Dean gasped and woke up. Ariel. Her blue eyes were in front of him. Her hands were on his face, and she was talking frantically and quickly.

Ariel.


	10. Gone

**Shoutouts to tigereyekum, roxylove7, Melinda, and blueskia for reviewing!**

**This chapter is a mix of Dean/Ariel moments (Is their pairing name Dariel? I'm terrible at coming up with couple names haha!) and action moments. We're starting to move into the Season Two finale, and that means Season Three is just around the corner, whaddup! If I keep holding interest in this story, I'd love to take it up at least through Season Four because I have a lot of really fun ideas for when Castiel and the angels come in.**

**Also, I didn't hear back on what people think of the sisfic Castiel/OC idea and whether it should be in the same universe as Ariel or not, so I'm still leaving that one up for grabs. If you have any opinions on it, feel free to leave it in the reviews or the PMs. I always answer my PMs, even if it's not within 24 hours. I'm actually better about answering PMs than I am about updating my stories lololol**

**Ok. That's about it. I won't be writing Ariel into every single episode because that can get boring pretty quickly, I think, but the season finale and any plot developing episodes are important, so I'll always write those, in addition to lots of personal little "behind the scenes" moments like the ones that are in this ;)**

**Ok. I'm sorry this is so long. Does anyone even read these? Oops! Ok, I'm done. Please continue reviewing, I just love getting them! Enjoy =)**

* * *

Chapter 10

Dean focused on the blue eyes in front of him, and he grimaced, a sound releasing from his throat. A sigh of relief came from Ariel, a newfound calmness rushing over her face as she realized that he wasn't dead. Dean noticed Sam running over towards the both of them, looking as long and limbery as he usually did.

"Ahhh…Auntie Em. There's no place like home," Dean grunted from his strung up position.

"Glad to hear it. Let's get you down now, Dorothy," Ariel replied.

"Thank God. I thought we'd lost you for a second," Sam breathed, reaching up and pulling the tube out of Dean's neck. Ariel squinched her face up, but she didn't say anything as she stared at Dean. He smirked at her.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked. "Personally, I think restraints have better use in the bedroom."

"Ew, Dean, can you save the flirting until we're out of here?" Sam asked in an impatient voice and a disgusted expression on his face. Ariel snickered and discreetly covered her mouth with her hand. Dean connected the mannerism to the same exact one that Dreamland Ariel had done when she'd been laughing at him in the restaurant.

"What? I'm a damsel in distress. Now cut me down already," Dean grumbled. He looked up at the rope that Sam was using a knife to raw on. Seeing that Dean was being taken care of, Ariel went to go look at the girl.

"Sam!" Dean suddenly shouted. She turned sharply and saw the Djinn grappling with Sam. Dean was still tied up, and he was struggling to get out of the rope. Forgetting the girl, she dashed towards him to try to help him get free when the rope snapped, and he was finally loose. As he looked down at his wrists, he saw that the knife Sam had had was on the ground by his feet, and he grabbed it and tossed it to Ariel. Running on pure instinct,, she turned and plunged the knife into the Djinn's back. She felt the Djinn jerk and shake at the contact, the life slipping away from it, and she pulled the knife out of its back.

Breathing heavily, she looked at Sam, studying him to make sure he was ok. He seemed all right for someone who'd just been strangled by a Djinn, at least. She turned her gaze to Dean, who didn't seem to be in much better shape.

"She's still alive," she said, gesturing with her head back towards the girl. Dean didn't really look so good, but she figured that after having his blood drained, he wouldn't be feeling up to speed. Dean nodded and crossed towards the girl, removing the tube that was draining her blood.

"Sam!" Dean called over his shoulder. Ariel stepped back as the younger but taller Winchester handled the ropes. Due to her small stature, she was of little use when it came to the rope cutting since she couldn't reach the ropes, and she stood off to the side as she watched the Winchesters take care of the half-dead girl together. Sam got through the ropes, and the girl fell into Dean's waiting arms.

"I gotcha, I gotcha," he mumbled quietly to her. "We're gonna get you out of here, ok? I got you."

"Dean, let me get her," Sam ordered, reaching to take the girls from his weakened older brother. Ariel expected a protest from the older Winchester, but she was surprised to see him nod and let Sam take her from his arms. He looked woozy, and he blinked hard.

"Hey there, Dorothy, come on. We gotta get you out of here, too," she said as she crossed to him. She slipped one arm underneath his shoulder so that her arm was stretched out across his back. Thinking back to all the times that he'd helped her walk the way she was helping him made her grin.

"The tables have turned, huh?" she asked with a smirk, meriting a smile from Dean. They hurried out to the Impala as best as they could, Sam with the girl in his arms, and Dean leaning on Ariel. He was surprised by how solid she was beneath his weight. She was small, much smaller than he was, but she was strong as hell, something he hadn't expected from the blonde hunter.

"Baby, you're ok," he declared happily, running his hand over his beloved car when they all got outside. All legs and arms, Sam clambered into the back with the girl as carefully as he could, and Dean went to go get in the driver's seat when Ariel held her hand up, abruptly stopping him.

"Uhn uhn," she said firmly. "Keys."

"What? I can drive."

"No, you can't. Keys."

"This is bullshit."

"_Dean_. You can barely fucking walk. Keys." The look in her eyes meant that she was serious, and Dean just didn't have the energy to argue with her. Deep down, he knew that she was right. Actually, it wasn't even all that deep down that he knew it. He knew she was really fucking right. Still, that didn't mean he had to enjoy it. Reluctantly, he dug in his pocket and produced the keys. She smiled at him in triumph.

"Perfect. Get in the passenger's seat."

"Bossy." He reached out and grabbed her, his lips possessing hers so quickly that she didn't have time to react. He didn't linger. Just kissed her long enough to soothe the ache that was in his solar plexus. He pulled back and looked at her. Her blue eyes were wide with surprise, and her cheeks were flushed in a healthy, light pink. The smile on his face was sad, but before she could ask him why, he'd turned away and had crossed to the passenger's side to get in the car.

* * *

Sam hung up the phone and turned to his brother and Ariel. He'd noticed a closeness between them for the past week, occasionally catching them kissing or brushing their hands together when they thought he couldn't see. They'd been pretty discreet with everything they'd been doing, but after he and Ariel had gotten Dean back from the Djinn, they weren't hiding so much of it anymore. He looked at them sitting on the bed. It was Dean's turn to have the bed and Ariel's turn to take the couch—they'd both tried to get her to agree to letting them take the couch so that she'd always have a bed, but she'd irritably informed them that that was sexist, and she was going to do her share—but it didn't appear that she was going to be on the couch that night.

Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, flipping through a magazine, and Ariel was sprawled out on her stomach with a book in her hand. Her head was pointed towards the bottom of the bed, her feet towards the top, but she was positioned so that she was close to Dean. Sam caught Dean reach one hand out and skim over the top of her hair, and he couldn't help smiling to himself.

Dean had never been affectionate; he'd always been gruff and standoffish when it came to physical contact, but something had happened in that dreamland the Djinn had sent him to, though really, Sam knew that this side of his older brother would've come out at some point even without the Djinn's help. And it was because of Ariel.

"That was the hospital. Girl's been stabilized. Good chance she's gonna pull through," Sam announced.

"That's good," Dean replied as he looked up from his magazine.

"Yeah. How 'bout you? You all right?" Sam inquired, his eyebrows drawing up in a cautious, curious manner.

Dean cleared his throat and nodded absentmindedly, "Yeah, I'm all right." He paused. "You should've seen it, Sam. Our lives. You were such a wussy."

"So we didn't get along then, huh?" Sam chuckled. Dean grinned and shook his head.

"Ariel was ok, though. When we went into the warehouse, you didn't flinch an inch," he said, tossing a glance towards the blonde hunter. She rolled her eyes as if the answer were obvious.

"Of course I wasn't scared of some shit like that," she answered.

"I thought it was supposed to—to be this perfect fantasy," Sam spoke up with a frown on his face.

"It wasn't. It was just a wish. I wished for Mom to live. That Mom never died, we never went hunting, and you and me just never…uh…you know."

"Yeah. Well, I'm glad we do," Sam answered softly. His brother was rare and few on chick flick moments, and he'd take them when he could. This was the Winchester way of saying I love you, he thought with an inward grin to himself.

"I'm just glad you dug yourself out, Dean. Most people wouldn't have had the strength…would've stayed," Ariel said matter of factly. "I doubt I would've been able to give all that up. Back with my dad and my brother and my mom…no Furies, no hunting."

"Exactly. That's what it was," Dean agreed. "I gotta tell you, Sam. You know, you had Jess. Mom was gonna have grandkids…."

"Yeah, but Dean, it wasn't real," Sam protested.

"I know. But I wanted to stay." Dean looked at Ariel. She'd sat up by now, and she was sitting next to him with her feet dangling over the side. She was close to him, but she wasn't quite touching him. "I wanted to stay so bad. I mean, ever since Dad…all I c—all I can think about is how much this job's cost us." He paused. "We've lost so much. We've…sacrificed so much."

"But people are alive because of you," Ariel said softly, earnestly. "It's worth it, Dean. It is. It's not fair, and…you know—it hurts like hell, but…it's worth it."

Dean carefully nodded and looked up at Sam, who was staring back at him with his big hazel eyes.

'Get some rest, man," Sam said quietly. "You look like hell."

Despite himself, Dean grinned, and he nodded. Sam went into the bathroom to brush his teeth, leaving Dean and Ariel alone. They didn't touch, and they didn't kiss as they sat there quietly together. The other's presence was all that they really needed at that moment.

"So I was some dream girl, huh?" she asked softly with a gentle laugh. Dean grinned back at her and nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, something like that," he responded. "But Sam's right. It's not real. That version of you wasn't real."

"Sorry to disappoint," she teased with a smirk. His eyes lifted to hers, and all traces of joking were aside. That deep green intensity was back, and he searched her face to find all the realness and authenticity that made up Ariel Easton. She never hid anything from him in her face, her emotions just there for him to see. And as he looked at her, he saw the relief and the reality of it all in her face.

"The real thing is better," he said quietly. She froze, unmoving and unspeaking. For a moment, he was afraid that he'd startled her, but then she ran her thumb lightly across his jaw that it almost didn't feel as though it'd happened.

"Let's catch some shut eye," she said, a soft smile on her lips. "We've got a long day tomorrow, and I don't think you want me driving the Impala again."

Dean smirked, and he stood up to shed his jeans and button down shirt. "You weren't _that_ bad of a driver."

"Please I'm a great driver," she retorted, shrugging out of her sweater. She crossed to her suitcase on the couch and pulled out a pair of loose cotton shorts. With no ounce of self-consciousness, she pulled her jeans off without a second thought. Dean tried to keep his eyes averted, but he took a quick sneak peek, impressed by her long, thin, bare legs. She shimmied into her shorts and returned to the bed.

He slid under the covers with her and wrapped himself around her, careful not to pull her too tightly to him to make her feel trapped down. Her soft blonde hair made a tiny halo around the top of her head. A light sigh escaped her, and he kissed her shoulder. She might not have been the same Ariel that he'd known in Dreamland, but Dean knew he'd take this Ariel over her any day.

* * *

Things changed from that moment on. The Djinn had made Dean's wish come true—kind of—and it'd put things into perspective for him, particularly when it came to Ariel. The way that he looked at Ariel was different. The way that he touched her was different. Everything that had to do with the small, lovely hunter was different. Even though he'd wished for his mom to still be alive, it was almost as if the Djinn had given him a glimpse of what the perfect life would be like. And that perfect life had included Ariel.

Back at Bobby's, he and Ariel tried to be as discreet as possible. They both slept in their own separate rooms every night, and they held back on their touches and kisses until they were alone, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to clue in on the fact that something had changed. They still hadn't discussed what exactly they were, and that was still ok with them. Dean didn't think that he could take on the gravity of that discussion—he wasn't much for talking about feelings, anyway.

Besides, they still had jobs to do and monsters to hunt, which they did.

It'd been two weeks since the Djinn when Ariel and Dean had a few seconds to themselves in the kitchen as they looked over a map together. Knowing that they were alone, she rested her head against his shoulder as they both scoured it.

"If we head out tomorrow morning, we can probably hunt those vamps and waste them in probably three, four days, you think?" Ariel asked. Dean nodded thoughtfully, continuing to look at the map.

"Yeah, probably. You, me, and Sammy can take that easily."

"With our arsenal in the trunk? Easy as pie."

"Pie? I like the sound of pie."

"You always like pie," Ariel said with a smirk. Dean shrugged.

"What about it? Pie's good. Pie is the reason the world turns."

"Ok, Mr. Dramatic."

"What, you don't think pie's great?"

"Shit." Bobby's voice suddenly said from in front of them. Ariel's body instantly stiffened, and she jolted away from Dean, her blue eyes wide in panic as she saw her father figure standing in the doorway of the kitchen. The older hunter heaved a sigh as he looked back and forth between them.

"I can explain," Dean said quickly, the panic evident in his voice. He felt like he was back in high school again, caught doing something he shouldn't be doing and feeling the need to owe an excuse. Ariel shot him a look. How could they explain? What exactly was there to explain? Bobby hadn't exactly walked in on much…but maybe the fact that he'd only walked in on just a simple touch as a head on a shoulder spoke volumes than had it been the two of them actually fucking on the couch.

"Shut it, son," Bobby snapped irritably. "You think I ain't noticed you two acting all funny since you got back? I wasn't born yesterday, though I know I look like I was."

"What?" Ariel asked incredulously. "You knew?"

"I know what sneaking around looks like, and sneaking around is the name of the bug that crawled up both your asses and decided to make its home there," Bobby said with a smirk.

"Oh," Ariel answered faintly. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat and looked at Dean. His body was still tensed up as he waited for Bobby to say something else. The tension was so thick in the room that she could've cut it just by lifting her finger into the air.

"That was a terrible metaphor," Dean spoke up. Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Can I have a word with you?" he asked. Dean swallowed hard, and he nodded stiffly. He walked past Ariel to go out into the hall with Bobby. His heart was pounding in his chest in an extremely unpleasant way, and he suddenly feared for his life in a way that he never had before. Bobby was like family to him, and Dean had the sudden thought that he was about to get killed by this man who was like a father to him.

"I know what you're gonna say," he said quickly as soon as Bobby turned around to face him. "If I hurt her, you're gonna kill me."

Bobby laughed, genuinely amused, much to Dean's surprise.

"What? Fuck no. If you hurt her, she's gonna be the one after you, not me. She doesn't need me to take care of her business for you. I was just giving you a heads up," he snickered. Dean wasn't sure if he should feel better or worse now that Bobby had shared that piece of information with him. He frowned, folding his arms across his chest as Bobby continued to laugh wholeheartedly.

"Oh. Yeah. That, too," he mumbled. Bobby slapped him on the shoulder and calmed his snickers down enough to speak to him.

"Good luck, son. You're gonna need it," he said. Giving Dean a wide grin, he slapped him on the shoulder one more time and then turned around, exiting the house through the front door. Dean stood in silence for a few moments as he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. Apparently, Bobby had known that he and Ariel had had a thing for a while, and he'd just taken Dean aside to warn him that if he hurt Ariel, Ariel would be the one to look out for.

"Weirder things have happened, I guess," he mumbled under his breath to himself. He turned on his heel and strolled back into the kitchen, finding Ariel sitting at the kitchen table looking petrified.

"What'd he say?" she asked in a panic. Dean shrugged lightly, his perplexed expression still on his face as he sat in the chair across from her.

"Well, uh, he said he wanted to warn me," he said slowly.

"Yeah? What'd he say?" Ariel pressed.

"Um, he wanted to warn me that if I hurt you, I don't need to worry about him hurting me…I'll have to worry about _you_ hurting me," he finished. For a solid seven seconds, Ariel stared at him with a blank face. Dean briefly wondered if she hadn't heard him, but then she burst out laughing, tilting her head back up to the ceiling as she laughed. He loved whenever she was overtaken by little fits of laughter like that; hunting didn't call for too many moments of mirth, so whenever she laughed, he soaked up the moment just as much as she did.

"He seriously said that?" she asked, giggles still pouring out of her mouth as she tried to calm herself.

"Yeah, I kind of wish he were lying," Dean replied with a grin. "Well, at least he knows now. I guess that's a bit of a comfort."

"What, the sneaking around, teenage love story isn't working for you?" she cheekily asked, her cheeks still bright from her laughter. Dean loved how starry-eyed she looked, how she had the potential to light up the night sky. He wondered when he'd started feeling poetic; poetry and Dean Winchester were two things that didn't go together, as evidenced by his English grades in high school.

"Hell no. That story always ends in tears and shouts and threats to the police, and then her dad comes outside with a gun, and—"

"Oo, this sounds like personal experience," Ariel teased, lifting her light brown eyebrows at Dean's digression. Dean noncommittally shrugged, winking at her.

"What, you never did the 'date the bad boy' thing?" he asked. Wrinkling her nose, she shook her head at him.

"Oh, no," she said in a posh tone. "I always dated the boys in button down shirts, khakis, and boating shoes. If they even thought about owning a leather jacket, they were kicked to the curb."

She turned so that her back was against the table, and she lifted herself up to sit on the edge of it. Even at this height, she was still below Dean's eye level, but she didn't mind looking up at him. His green eyes darkened, and he walked closer to her until he could put his hands on either side of her, resting against the edge of the table. He leaned into his hands, his eyes still locked on hers. At the last second, they flicked down to her lips.

"I don't think I even own a pair of khakis," he murmured. His mouth was only inches from hers, and she was painfully aware of that fact. Willing herself not to grab him and kiss him, she discreetly tried to slow her breathing, and she grinned at him.

"I guess I'm kicking you to the curb," she answered huskily. Dean moved in to kiss her when a scuffle of feet and annoyed groan signified that Sam had just walked in on them. Dean quickly moved back and tried to look like he'd been studying the map, Ariel twisting around to make it seem as though she'd been looking at it, too, even though her position alone would've been a clear give away that she hadn't been looking at it.

"This is becoming a regular thing," Sam grumbled as he crossed further into the kitchen. "It's as regular as waking up. Sam wakes up, Sam gets coffee, Sam takes a shower, Sam gets dressed, Sam sees Ariel and Dean making out, Sam gets more coffee. I swear."

"That's my Sammy Sunshine," Dean quipped cheerfully. "Believe it or not, we actually _were_ doing work. Nest of vamps that we could probably take care of in three to four days. Ariel and I thought that between the three of us, we could take care of them pretty quickly."

"Yeah, we could," Sam admitted. "Where'd you hear this from?"

"Bobby got a call from a friend earlier today asking for some of us to go check it out. No time like the present, right?" Ariel asked.

"Ariel Easton's Words of Wisdom," Sam chimed in. "I guess so. We might as well take it. We've got nothing on Yellow Eyes—"

"Bubkis," Dean agreed.

"—and we've got nothing on the Furies. They seem to have gotten distracted by something else," Sam continued. Ariel nodded, frowning.

"Come to think of it, there's really been nothing going on at all. These vamps are the first things we've heard about since the Djinn. It's like everything's taking a few weeks off. I don't trust that," she said, her mouth twisting even further into a distrustful expression.

"I don't know. It _has _been a long time," Sam agreed. "I just don't know if it's all related."

"In the supernatural world, _everything's_ related," Dean returned.

"Truth," Ariel agreed, pointing a finger at him. "The Furies and demons are really closely linked together. I haven't been able to find the defining link between them, but the fact that my knife kills both demons _and_ the Furies? That says it right there. I think that all of this is tied in somehow."

"Well, why don't we take the job and see if we can figure anything out from there," Sam said, glancing at Dean for Dean's approval. Dean nodded.

"When can you guys be ready?" he asked. Ariel scoffed.

"Please, I'm ready now," she said.

"Yeah, me too."

"Let's go cut some vamp heads off. Sam, go get your shit," Dean ordered. Sam's jaw tightened at the order; he hated whenever his brother ordered him around just like their father had, but he didn't say anything. Now wasn't the time to bring it up, especially with Ariel around.

"I'm gonna run out back and tell Bobby we're leaving. Wait, are we taking the Impala?" she asked. Dean stared at her as if she'd grown two extra heads.

"Is that even a fucking question?" he asked in disbelief. Ariel held her hands up in surrender.

"Just asking," she said. "There's nothing wrong with the Impala. I was just asking."

She turned to go out back, catching Dean's wink and grin as she turned.

"That's what I thought!" he shouted just as the door shut behind her.

* * *

"You've really gotta stop dreaming about this place, A." Elliot shot her a distasteful glance as he looked around the dark warehouse. "Why do you always come back here?"

"I don't know," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. "Maybe because it was one of the worst nights of my life. That's not just something you easily forget."

Her tone was terse and tight. She couldn't control her dreams; why on Earth was Elliot asking her that? Surely he had better things to do than to give her shit for dreaming about that night in the warehouse. The last time he'd come to her, he said that he only came when she was in danger. As much as she missed him, the sight of him in her dreams wasn't all that promising, and she couldn't say that she was too thrilled to see him, knowing what his true purpose was.

"Dude, I was only curious," Elliot responded with a shrug, letting it slide. He'd always been so chill and relaxed; that'd been one of the reasons that they'd worked so well together. He'd calmly gone with whatever was happening, just along for the ride while she'd been the one to dive into everything headfirst.

"This can't be a good sign," she said, completely changing the subject. "Is it the vamps? Is there something going on with the job?"

"Not exactly," Elliot hesitantly replied. "Look, I can't tell you too much, but a shit ton of bad shit is about to happen."

"I know, I know—be careful."

"Hey, I know I can't tell you not to go through with it, but you need to watch out for yourself." Elliot raised his eyebrows at her in a challenging way. The gesture had always made Ariel want to laugh; he might not have looked like the kind of person who would've been a good hunter because he was so slight and nerdy-looking, but he'd actually been a great hunter. She just couldn't take him seriously when he gave her that look.

"I sure wish you were here to have my back," she said, smiling sadly at him.

"You don't need me. Those Winchesters have your back, and they're a thousand times better suited for it," he answered honestly with a dismissive shrug.

"Yeah, maybe," she agreed. "I just wish you were here in general then."

"You're such a sap." He smiled at her.

"Yeah, you piece of shit." She reached out and punched him lightly against the shoulder. He was solid beneath her fist, and that thought alone made her smile. It really was as though he were with her. Suddenly, he frowned, and the look in his eyes turned from one of joking to panic.

"Ariel, listen very closely to me," he said frantically. "This is more dangerous than you know. Even more dangerous than the night at the warehouse, and—"

"What? I almost died that night," she answered, alarmed by his words and his panicked tone.

"_Listen to me_," he stressed. "Be on your guard at all times. Wake up _now_."

* * *

Ariel's eyes flew open, and her guard was immediately up. Her muscles were tensed as she prepared to fight demons, Furies, anything. But she found that she was in the Impala with Dean and Sam, and they were pulling into a diner.

"Whoa there," Sam teased her, glancing at her from his seat in the front. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

Despite the panic of the moment and the seriousness of her dream, Ariel grinned at the irony of it.

"I kind of did," she said.

"What?" Dean asked, confused.

"Never mind," she replied, brushing it off. "Where are we?"

"About two hours out," Sam said. "We thought—"

"_Sam_ was being a little bitch about wanting food, so we're making a pit stop," Dean said pointedly, stressing who the real culprit was. Ariel smiled, though she couldn't shake the feeling of her dream. Something was happening, and she had no idea what it was. Elliot wouldn't have told her to wake up _now_ if there weren't anything happening now. She looked around her as Dean pulled the car to a stop.

"The usual?" Sam sighed as he looked over at Dean.

"Yeah. Hey, don't forget the extra onions this time," Dean said with a glare as he handed Sam some cash.

"Dude, Ariel and I are the ones who're gonna have to ride in the car with your extra onions," Sam retorted. "Allow me to reiterate: _Ariel_ and I."

Dean caught onto what Sam was not so subtly reminding him, and he sighed, rolling his eyes in defeat. "Fine. No extra onion. But see if they've got pie."

"I only want a slice of chocolate cheesecake," Ariel said as she handed the tall Winchester her money.

"Fancy," Dean grumbled from the driver's seat. He leaned back and called out the window towards his brother, "Bring me some pie!" He looked back at Ariel. "Love me some pie."

Ariel smirked at him and waited until Sam had walked into the diner before pitching herself headfirst into the front seat to take Sam's spot.

"Going ninja on me now?" Dean asked with amusement as he watched her settle herself into place in the front seat of the Impala. She grinned happily at him and nodded.

"My brother and I always used to do this to each other whenever one of us got out of the car," she said. Dean paused, waiting to see if her mood turned at sad at the mention of her brother, but she continued to look cheerful despite it. He noticed her looking around the area more than usual, her blue eyes taking the extra time to quickly study each thing. She was on alert, but he didn't know why.

"Are you ok?" he asked. She paused, her eyes turning on him for a few seconds, and she nodded.

"I kind of had a dream," she said.

"A dream," Dean slowly repeated. She shrugged dismissively.

"Yeah, a dream. I got the feeling from it that something's about to happen."

"Like what?" Dean asked. He looked around, his own eyes sweeping over the area to do his own scan. He barely even noticed that the radio was going wacky. When he looked back at the diner, he saw that no one was inside. "Like that?"

"Uh, yeah, I'd say that would suffice," Ariel said. Instantly, they both leapt out of the car and ran into the diner. Concern pumped through Ariel's veins, and she steadied her breathing as they entered the small building. Loud country music was playing, and despite the serious situation, she grimaced; she hated country music. Always had, always would.

"Ariel," Dean quietly hissed. Her gaze went to the booth that he was staring at. In the booth was a customer face down in blood. Without another thought, she and Dean both pulled their guns out at the same time.

"Sam?" Dean called out. She slowly eased a step forward, looking around to see if anyone else was in the diner with them. There was an eerie sense of being terribly and horribly alone, and it made her skin crawl; it was the feeling that came with evil presence, and evil presence always meant monsters or demons of some kind. She stepped around to look behind the counter and saw two employees dead.

"Dean," she snapped. He came and joined her, glancing over and seeing the dead bodies.

"Fuck," he mumbled quietly. He gestured for her to go look out the front windows while he opened the back door and looked out at the dark empty night, feeling that same desolate feeling that Ariel had received, too.

"Sam?" he called again. No answer. Eyes wide with the horrifying realization that his brother wasn't there, he began to close the door when his fingers brushed against powder on the small window of the door. Dean knew what it was without needing to smell it.

"Sulfur," he said out loud. "Ariel, demons."

"Fuck!" she hissed. "How the fuck did they do that? We had our eyes off for only one second. One _fucking_ second."

Dean brushed past her as he ran out the front door, the panic and the horror rising up in his chest. He'd lost his little brother; he'd failed at the one thing his father had always told him to do: look out for Sammy. The thought of it was a fist that constricted around his heart, and he had to force himself to consciously take air into his lungs.

"Dean!" Ariel was shouting after him.

"Sam? Sammy!" he shouted into the ever silent darkness. "Sam? Sammy!"

He walked with purpose back to the tiny parking lot to check out there, hearing Ariel's footsteps coming after him. He paused, looking around and listening hard for any possible kind of movement out there.

"Sam!" he shouted, his call so loud that it echoed back to him, leaving his skin tingling with an unpleasant feeling.

"Dean, he's not here," Ariel said firmly. "You're not gonna find him here."

"Then where the fuck is he? How could they have taken him that fast?" Dean demanded, banging his fist against the side of the pick up truck next to him in frustration.

"Dean, I don't know. This is what my dream must've been warning me about. Come on, we need to leave," she said, her hand grabbing his forearm and pulling him back to the car. She noticed how he didn't appear to be listening at her, and she knew not to take it personally; he was only thinking of his brother and what the fuck had possibly happened to him.

_Elliot, _she thought, _you were right. Unfortunately, you were so fucking right_.

She jumped into the car as Dean started it, barely buckling in her seatbelt before he sped off. Neither of them needed to voice that something so undeniably, horribly wrong was happening. Little did either of them know that it was only going to get worse.


	11. Showdown

**Shoutouts to blueskia, tigereyekum, roxylove7, and Melinda for reviewing!**

**What up! Almost at Season 3! Let me know what y'all think. I love getting your reviews more than you know! It lets me know what I'm doing to make you guys happy or if you want something different.**

**Also, if you're interested in a sisfic/Cas/OC story, just hit me a review or a PM, specifying yes or no and if you think that it should be in the same universe as Ariel or a different one.**

**Enjoy! =)**

* * *

Chapter 11

Dean leaned against the hood of his car, his arms folded, and his face drawn in pensive brooding. Ariel was beside him, the side of her hip grazing against his jeans. One of the things that he liked about her was that she wasn't one of those girls who was constantly hanging herself all over him, especially in times when he was upset like now. She knew that he was _more_ than upset over Sam's disappearance, but she wasn't trying to comfort him with thousands of hugs and caresses and kisses; she made it clear that she was there for him, but she didn't cling to him the way that some women did, and he appreciated that about her.

"You ok?" he asked. He could sense that something was weighing heavily on her mind. She'd been quiet for most of the drive, and that wasn't exactly like Ariel. Granted, whenever Sam was in the car, she stretched out in the backseat and went to sleep, but when it was just the two of them—though that was a rare occurrence—she had plenty to say. On this drive, however, it'd been the total opposite.

"I should be asking you that," she returned steadily. She turned her head slightly and looked up at him, peering at his face from beneath the few strands of short hair that had fallen into her face.

"I'm fine," Dean quickly replied. She lifted her eyebrows at him.

"Yeah?" she challenged. He frowned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you? Been real quiet, and that ain't like you," he said, deciding to completely change the subject. She hesitated, and he could see her thought process running through her brain as she contemplated whether or not to let it go.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I'm just worried about all of this. Sam disappearing, the demons, and how you're beating yourself up," she finally said. His frown deepened, his mouth moving into an unpleasant half-twist at her words.

"Who said anything about me beating myself up?" he asked. She shot him a look.

"Please, I know the look of self-blame when I see it." Her tone was careful, as if she weren't sure how he would react to what she was saying. Dean tried to suppress the flare of anger that shot up through his chest, but he lost.

"My brother disappeared because of me," he retorted sharply. Ariel's defenses instantly shot up, and she narrowed her eyes at him just the slightest bit. It wasn't much, but it was enough to tell Dean that he was pressing into some dangerous waters with her, waters that he knew he shouldn't be in but just couldn't seem to stay out of. He'd only experienced her temper back when they'd first met, and it hadn't been something he wanted to experience again, but he was just as hotheaded as she was, and that was an undeniable fact.

"He didn't disappear because of you, Dean," Ariel replied in her cool, steady tone. "You're blaming yourself over something you felt you owed to your dad."

"Yeah, I owed it to my dad, and I still do. My job's always been to look out for Sam, and I failed!" Dean's green eyes were flashing with anger, and he could feel Ariel's own anger starting to rise at his increasingly impetuous tone.

"You _didn't_ fail," she snapped. "For Christ's sake, stop blaming yourself. Sam's almost 25 years old—I think he can look out for himself and not depend on you to do it for him."

"It was my job to look out for him. That's what I've done my whole life, and I wasn't able to do it right. You've worked alone all these years, Ariel. You don't have a partner to look out for, let alone someone who's your own blood. What do you know about failure, anyway?" Dean snapped back before he could stop and think about the words. Instantly, the anger drained out of his body, and he regretted it as soon as he saw the look on her face. Her eyes hardened, darkening to a color so deep that they almost looked a purple-black in the light of the day. Her gaze was intense as she tried to leash her anger in.

"I have failed people when they needed me most," she said in a low, thick voice. "I failed them, and they died. Don't ask me what I know about failure. I'm the goddamn poster child."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and stalked away from him, her legs and back stiff with anger. Dean sighed, knowing that he'd fucked up. He hadn't meant to snap at her, and he immediately felt guilty as he watched her go to the back of the Impala and lean against the trunk to calm herself. Jesus, Ariel and Bobby were all that he had at the moment, and he'd managed to piss her off, too. He stood up to go to the back and apologize when Bobby pulled up in his truck, pulling over right behind Dean's car. The older hunter was wearing his typical baseball cap and his usual flannel. Dean waited, the guilt settling in more heavily on him, as Bobby got out of his truck and meandered over to Dean.

"Where's Ariel?" Bobby asked. Dean gestured with his head to the back of the Impala.

"I pissed her off," he answered in a tone that made Bobby think of a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. Bobby shrugged nonchalantly.

"At least you're honest," he said. "Ariel! Come here! I got stuff for you to look at!"

At the sound of Bobby's voice, Ariel turned her blonde head around to catch sight of the hunter. She didn't smile, but she slowly stood up and moved towards the head of the car. Dean caught sight of a lit cigarette in her hand, and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"You smoke?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Just once in a while when I get stressed," she replied dully. Her gaze turned to Bobby. "Hey."

"Wipe that glare off your face, and put out that damn cancer stick, wouldja? Nasty habit you have," Bobby muttered. She gave him a bored look that signaled they'd had this debate before.

"Bobby, I've had this pack of cigarettes for like, a year now, and I'm barely halfway through it. Besides, would you rather me smoke myself to death, drink myself to death, or get wasted by some monster?" she intoned. "At least if I died of lung cancer, I'd be dying a pretty normal death instead of getting clawed to shreds."

"You sure are a damper to have around. Who poisoned your Kool-Aid?" Bobby asked with a smirk. "Now look at this map, wouldja?"

He laid the map out over the smooth, flat surface of Dean's car, smoothing it over with his hands. Ariel positioned herself between Bobby and Dean since she was the shortest. She looked up at both Bobby and Dean, noticing how short she was. She always forgot that she wasn't as tall as she made herself out to be in her head, and it surprised her to remember her actual height.

"Gonna stand there staring all day?" Bobby asked, lifting his eyebrows. She huffed out a sigh of impatience.

"You gonna tell us what it is?" she asked back.

"Sheesh. You really are touchy. What you're looking at is this past month's map. This is it. All demonic signs and omens over the past month," he said.

"Are you joking? There's nothing here?" Dean asked in disbelief. He was standing pretty close to Ariel, and his instinct was to reach out and touch her somehow, whether it was placing his hand on her back or tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, but he knew better than to try to touch an angry woman. Definitely knew that from experience.

"Exactly," Bobby replied in a "duh" tone.

"Well, come on. There's gotta be something," Dean shot back.

"What about the—the—the normal low-level stuff?" Ariel asked. "You know, exorcisms. That kind of thing."

"That's what I'm telling you: there's nothing. It's completely quiet." Bobby gestured to the map to only further his point. Ariel crossed her arms and rubbed her chin with her hand as she thought.

"This is what I was saying back at the house," she said, glancing up at Dean.

"You're right. You said that things had been pretty silent. Just didn't know how silent till now, I guess," he answered. Quickly, his eyes skimmed over her face to see if she was still mad. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere, having forgotten the annoyed moment that she'd had with him just minutes before. She was in work mode, completely focused on the job.

"We literally have nothing to go on," she said with a frustrated sigh.

"Well, how are we supposed to look for Sam? What, do we just close our eyes and point?" Dean demanded. At that moment, his cell phone rang. Irritably, he pulled it out of his pocket to answer it. His heart rate picked up when he saw that it was the exact call he'd been waiting for. "Ash, what do you got?"

"Ok, listen—it's a big nugatory on Sam," the nerdy computer genius replied into the phone.

"Oh, come on, man!" Dean groaned. "You've gotta give us something. We're looking at a three thousand mile haystack here."

"Listen, Dean, I did find something."

"Well, what?"

"I can't talk over this line, Dean."

"Come on, I don't have time for this!"

"Make time, ok? Because this—what's up? What's going on?—not only does this almost definitely help you find your brother, it's, ah, huge. So get here. Now." Without saying anything else, Ash had hung up, leaving Dean to stare at the phone for a few extra seconds in confusion about the conversation. Dean looked at Ariel and saw her waiting for a recap with a curious expression on her face.

"I guess we're going to The Roadhouse. Come on," he said. "Bobby, we'll see you there."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Bobby said and walked back to his truck. Dean got in the Impala and started it, waiting for Ariel to get buckled in the passenger's side. There was a small amount of tension between them, though it wasn't as much as Dean had been expecting. She was quiet as she finished buckling her seatbelt. Without pausing, Dean lurched the Impala forward and began soaring down the highway, driving the way that only he could.

"Hey, I'm sorry for what I said back there," he said finally.

"It's fine," she answered. Her voice betrayed nothing of what she was thinking, and when he looked over at her to check in with her, she was gazing out the window so he couldn't see her face. He sighed.

"Look, I really am sorry. I snapped at you, and I shouldn't have," he said. She turned to look at him, her face calm and nonplussed.

"I told you. It's fine," she said. "I understand. Sam's missing, and you want to get him back."

"I think that sometimes I forget that other people have shitty lives, too," he answered. "Sam and I weren't the only ones to get dealt a bad card. You've lost people, too. Lost your family just like us."

"Well, Bobby's my family now," she answered almost impatiently, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice. Dean knew he was pushing at some unseen line, but he wasn't sure what the trigger was exactly, and that confused him.

"Ariel, what am I missing here?" he asked in exasperation. "Trust me—I don't want to fight with you when you're all that I have right now, so I'm genuinely trying to understand you."

She propped her arm up on the door of the car, resting her head against her open palm. The frustration in Dean's voice was plain as day, and she knew that he really was sorry for snapping at her. And she was sorry for snapping at him. Getting mad at each other wasn't going to solve anything, and it sure as hell wasn't going to get Sam back.

An ache started in her chest, and it moved to her throat to the point where she thought she couldn't speak. Swallowing the pain down, she looked straight ahead towards the road in front of them instead of looking at him when she spoke.

"I used to work with a partner," she began in a dead monotone. "His name was Elliot, and he lived across the street from me when I was growing up. He was best friends with my brother until the Furies got my brother. We lost touch for a few years, but we eventually got back in touch, and we teamed up together. It was only natural, you know? We'd lost someone we loved because of the Furies, and we wanted to hunt them down and kill them the way they'd hunted and killed my family. Except for my mom, but she's basically as good as dead since she's stuck in her own head now and won't talk to anyone. It was just natural that Elliot and I hunted together. Three years back, the Furies caught up to me. They were hunting _me_, not Elliot. Just me. They caught up to me, but they took him to lure me into a trap. Long story short, they killed him in front of me and nearly killed me, but Bobby scared them off."

She was quiet. Dean looked at her in shock, the surprise wide in his eyes. She was still staring hard at the road in front of her with her head propped up on her hand.

"I didn't know," he said softly.

"I failed Elliot. The Furies were after me, but he was the one who died, not me," she responded in a flat tone that told Dean she was done with the topic. Silence flooded the car for a few moments, and she sat stiff and unmoving in the passenger's seat. Dean considered turning music on, but he felt that if anything, it'd make this whole thing worse.

"So you know Ellen and Jo?" he asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her visibly relax, sinking back a little bit more into the leather of the seats.

"Yeah, I do. They're great. Helped me a lot over the years," she replied. The tension had even drained the smallest bit from her voice.

"They're good people. Jo's a firecracker," Dean said with a low chuckle. He felt the heat of her glare on him, and he cleared his throat. "Sorry. Sorry, I don't know where my head is."

"Stop, Dean," Ariel sighed. He frowned, peeking at her cautiously from the driver's seat.

"Stop, as in…stop the car?" he asked.

"No," she snapped. "Stop as in stop talking."

Dean knew that he was being shut out when she leaned her head against the side of the door and began breathing slowly. Nothing seemed to be going his way, and he felt as though it were all slipping out of his control. Over the past month, his entire way of life had changed, and things were getting worse and worse by the second. Sam was gone, Yellow Eyes was nowhere to be found, and Ariel was mad at him. He needed to fix things, and he was going to fix them all if it was the last damn thing he did.

* * *

Ariel slept without dreams, a fact that came as a relief to her, especially since she'd opened up to Dean and shared the story of Elliot's death. She didn't think she'd be able to handle seeing Elliot if he showed up so quickly after her talking about him like that. Elliot's death wasn't something she talked about. Ever. The only times she'd mentioned it had been when she'd told people who'd contacted her asking for her former partner. The guilt and the pain were just too much, and if she talked about it, she found herself hating herself for it even more.

She knew she was in no position to preach to Dean about not blaming himself when she blamed herself for Elliot's death every day. But in a way, it was different. The Furies had taken and killed Elliot to get to her; Elliot had only been a means to an end. They hadn't wanted him at all except to hurt her to her very core, which was what they'd done. They'd taken her family away from her, so the next step would've naturally been Elliot and Bobby.

And that was why she didn't go back to Bobby's very often. The longer she stayed around with him, the more time it gave the Furies to catch up with her, and she knew she wouldn't be able to live with herself if they killed Bobby because of her. Then again, it'd be harder to kill Bobby because Bobby was a much better hunter than Elliot, but still. The Furies were powerful, and they weren't easily deterred.

So Ariel welcomed her dreamless sleep, completely unaware to the world around her. She was in a deep sleep when Dean's voice woke her up.

"What the fuck?" he breathed. Ariel opened her eyes in a heartbeat, hearing the concern and the disbelief in his voice. And when she opened her eyes, she wished that she hadn't. In front of her lay the charred remains of The Roadhouse. A gasp escaped her throat as she stared openmouthed at the remaining structure.

"Oh, no," she whispered. Bobby's old truck came up around them and settled to a stop. She looked out the window at Bobby, and they exchanged a look that expressed a thousand words they never could've said out loud. They'd seen death enough to know what it looked like, and it looked like The Roadhouse in front of them.

They all slowly got out of their cars and approached the building. As they walked through what should've been the doorway, Ariel covered her mouth with her hands in shock at the horror that lay in front of her. She caught glimpses of shoes, clothing, and things she'd rather not know as she lightly walked around one of her favorite places.

"My God," Bobby said softly.

"You see Ellen?" Dean asked, his voice steady as his eyes scanned the burned bits of everything—and everyone—that was still there.

"No," Bobby answered, glancing at Ariel to see if she was ok. She still held her hands over her mouth to keep her emotions still in her throat, but her grief was written all over her face. She crossed to a hand that was sticking up out of the rubble.

"Oh, Danielle," she whispered as she caught sight of her friend's signature ring. Danielle had been one of the few female hunters that hadn't given Ariel shit, and they'd called each other for back up several times in the past when things had gotten desperate. Danielle had respected that Ariel didn't work with partners, so she never called the blonde hunter unless she was in dire need of help. Ariel wouldn't have considered them best friends, but she'd definitely liked the woman and had had a lot of respect for her.

"Ari, you ok?" Bobby asked as he still watched her. Numbly, Ariel nodded in response and turned away, unable to stare at the hand of a hunter she'd once known, liked, and respected.

"No Ash, either," Bobby added, tearing his eyes away from Ariel to keep looking through the rubble.

"Oh, Ash, dammit!" Dean hissed from his area. Bobby walked over towards him with a frown on his usually frowning face.

"Dammit, you found him?" he asked.

"Yeah. Shit," Dean spat. He began walking out of the ruins with Bobby walking after him.

"This is…" Bobby started but was unable to finish since there were no words for him to say.

"What the hell did Ash know? We've got no way of knowing where Ellen is. Or if she's even alive. We've got no clue what Ash was gonna tell us. Now, how the hell are we gonna find Sam?" Dean demanded. He looked back at The Roadhouse and saw Ariel still standing there. "Shit."

Slowly, he walked back towards the building. He moved carefully so as not to startle her. She had her arms folded, and her body language showed that she was closing in on herself and keeping everyone out. Dean came up to her, standing just slightly in front of her. Her blue eyes were trained on the ground, though they didn't appear to be looking at anything in particular.

"Ariel, hey," Dean said gently. "Are you ok?"

She nodded, but she still didn't look at him. Her cheeks were free of tears, and her eyes weren't glistening with unshed emotion. She was just very still and very quiet as she stared down at the burned floor. Suddenly, she ran forward, leaving The Roadhouse behind her as she reached the grass, bending over with her hands on her knees as she threw up.

She didn't hear Dean come up behind her, and she didn't register his presence until she felt his hands brushing against her face, holding her hair back as she emptied her stomach onto the leftover mixture of grass and dirt. She was gasping to catch her breath as she was finished, and she was leaning into Dean's arms and his chest as he held her tight against him.

"You're all right. You're ok, you're ok, you're ok. Shhhh. You're just fine, Ariel. It's ok, baby," he was murmuring into her hair, his lips against her temple. Her breathing slowed as she listened to Dean's voice soothe her and tell her that she was ok over and over again.

Finally, her breathing was back to normal, but she didn't move. The feel of Dean's arms around her and his voice in her ear was so comforting that it nearly brought tears to her eyes. He gently kissed her on the side of her head, and she sighed.

"I need to brush my teeth now," she said finally. He kissed her again in the same spot, his mouth lingering a few seconds longer. He released one arm from her but kept the other around the top of her shoulders and her back as he walked with her to the car. As he passed Bobby, he made eye contact with the man, and he saw a deep kind of sadness in the hunter's eyes that he was too familiar with.

Dean released Ariel from his arms as she opened the back door to the Impala and pulled out her toothbrush and toothpaste. She'd just started brushing her teeth when a pain deep in his skull distracted him.

"Ah," he grunted, pressing the heel of his palm to his head.

"Dean?" Bobby asked in alarm. Ariel paused from brushing her teeth, watching Dean fall slightly against the Impala. His arms braced himself from completely falling, but pain was written acutely across his face. Suddenly, brushing her teeth didn't seem so important. She was by his side in a second, careful not to touch him while he was doubled over, groans coming from his mouth. And just as quickly as the headache had come, it seemed to vanish.

"What was that?" Bobby asked in surprise.

"I don't know," Dean answered, sounding just as surprised as Bobby had. "A headache?"

"You get headaches like that a lot?" Ariel asked as she tentatively started to brush her teeth again.

"No. No. Must be the stress." Dean gave a light laugh, though he looked perplexed. "Ugh. I could have sworn I saw something."

"What do you mean? Like—a vision? Like what Sam gets?" Bobby asked.

"What? No!" Dean exclaimed.

"I'm just saying," Bobby retorted defensively.

"Come on, I'm not some psychic." Dean tossed Bobby a reproachful glance. Ariel spat out her toothpaste and reluctantly swallowed any that remained since she didn't have any water to spit it out with. She tucked the toothbrush and toothpaste back into her bag when Dean suddenly let out another loud cry of pain. When she straightened, she saw him leaning against the Impala, his elbows resting there as his tense hands grabbed the top of his head.

"Dean? Dean! Are you with me?" she demanded as she and Bobby rushed to his side. Dean's cries stopped, and he was breathing hard as he gulped oxygen into his lungs. Briefly, he looked up at both Ariel and Bobby and nodded.

"Yeah, I think so. I saw Sam. I _saw_ him," Dean stressed, his eyes connecting with Ariel's. She put both her hands on his cheeks and held his face in her hands as she looked intensely at him and stroked her thumbs lightly across his cheekbones.

"It _was_ a vision," Bobby confirmed.

"Yeah. I don't know how, but yeah. Whew. That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels," Dean grumbled as he pulled himself back up to standing, Ariel's hands moving to his shoulder and his wrist.

"What else did you see?" she asked.

"Uh…uh there was a bell," Dean answered, wrinkling his forehead as he fought to remember.

"What kind of bell?" Bobby asked.

"Like a big bell with some kind of engraving on it—I don't know."

"Engraving?" Ariel repeated.

"Yeah."

"Was it a tree?" she asked suddenly, her mind racing 300 miles a second. "Like an oak tree?"

"Yeah, exactly," Dean replied with a surprised look. Instantly, Ariel's blue gaze landed on Bobby, and he was staring back at her as they again exchanged a thousand words with their one glance.

"I know where Sam is," Bobby said. Ariel knew, too, and it wasn't a place that she was terribly eager to get to. It was a long road ahead of them.

* * *

Dean was always a fast driver, and this time was no exception. He soared down the highway, Ariel in the passenger's seat and Bobby in the back. Bobby didn't appreciate being in the back, and he grumbled for a long time about it, but he'd finally shut up about it.

"So you two, huh?" he piped up from the back in an attempt to lighten the tense mood. Ariel turned around and glared at him. "Oo, someone's mad."

"Everyone's always got a comment," she mumbled under her breath. Bobby scoffed.

"Girl, who's everyone? It ain't like you're rolling knee deep in friends," he pointed out with a chuckle. Ariel considered this and then shrugged in willing agreement.

"Huh, you're right," she said.

"This is like a really awkward family dinner," Dean said, taking a glance into the rearview mirror to look at Bobby. Bobby only snickered.

"Son, we're all family now," he said. "All the stories I could tell you about Ariel, and all the stories I can tell you about Dean. It's endless."

"We've got all the time in the world," Ariel responded with a smirk. "Enlighten me with a few Dean tales."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, why're we starting with me? Why don't we hear a few things about you?" Dean protested. She shrugged dismissively and adjusted her body so that she could look at both Dean and Bobby at the same time without having to twist back and forth between the two.

"I don't have any embarrassing stories, do I, Bobby?" she asked.

"Ariel, last time I checked, you don't shit gold," the older man snorted. "And if I remember correctly, you went through a phase where your aliases were all from that awful show _The OC_ or something like that."

"Huh, touche," Ariel reluctantly responded.

"_The OC_, Ariel?" Dean asked with a grin. She rolled her eyes at him and then wrinkled her nose.

"Yeah, yeah. Just drive."

* * *

Dean could drive for hours without getting tired, and he drove straight through without once growing exhausted. Bobby had offered to drive for him several times, but Dean didn't let anyone behind the wheel unless he _had_ to. Shit, he didn't even like _Sam_ behind the wheel of the Impala. Ariel had gotten lucky the one time she'd been granted the privilege of driving it, and that was only because he'd been too whacked out of it from the Djinn to really be on alert the way he needed to when he was behind the wheel.

But if anyone could make records for driving places the quickest, it would be Dean Winchester. Night had fallen by the time he pulled the Impala up to where Bobby had estimated the place was.

"Is this it?" he asked, his eyes already taking in every shape and form in the dark as he searched for anything that could be Sam. They were at the edge of some trees, and there was no road to get in any further. Dean looked over at Ariel and saw her navy blue eyes scrutinizing every inch of the trees.

"Well, looks like the rest of the way's on foot," Bobby said. "Get your guns out, and be careful."

At Bobby's words, Ariel was reminded of Elliot. _Let Sam be ok_, she thought as she pulled her gun out from the waistband of her jeans. She'd originally been dressed to go gank some vamps, and she was dressed in more "traditional" hunter attire, wearing a plaid button down and jeans with Timberlands. She'd learned the hard way from past experience that ganking vamps was bloody and messy, and if she didn't want her nicer clothes to get dirty, she needed to wear clothes she didn't care that much about, hence the plaid and Timberlands.

Dean pulled the Impala to a stop and shut the car off. Silently, all three of them crept out of the car and shut their doors behind them. Ariel cringed at even what little sound they made with the doors, but she moved carefully and quietly forward, her eyes and senses on alert for anything that could be out to kill her.

"Let's go," she said and gestured forward with her head.

"Be careful," Dean said as he moved right next to her level, Bobby on the other side of her. She sighed impatiently and shot him a glare.

"Everyone's always telling me that," she mumbled.

"Again, who's everyone?" Bobby quipped.

The three made their way through the woods until they reached the town. They were all in hunting mode, prepared to shoot anything and anyone that posed as a threat. Ariel could feel her flask of holy water against the small of her back on the inside of her waistband. It gave her a sense of comfort to feel it there, to know that she had that kind of coverage.

"This is it, huh?" she asked Bobby. Bobby nodded grimly.

"He's here somewhere," he replied.

"But where?" Dean asked. A loud crash from straight ahead caught their attention. Ariel and Dean looked at each other, their eyes wide, and then Dean took off.

"Sam!" he shouted.

"Shit," Bobby hissed under his breath. "He's gonna get us all fucking killed."

"There he is," Ariel breathed in relief as she saw the younger Winchester staggering forward, clutching his arm. He looked injured but otherwise ok. A smile was on his face as he saw the three of them approaching him.

"Dean!" Sam called out.

"Sam, look out!" Dean suddenly cried, his face twisting into a panicked frown as he saw a man come up behind Sam with a knife in his hand. Dean broke out into a run to get to his younger brother. Ariel's stomach jolted as she saw the man behind Sam drive the knife into the young Winchester's back. Sam's face contorted with pain, his eyes screwed shut and his mouth tight as the knife made its mark.

"No!" Dean cried, breaking into a sprint. Ariel's legs moved quicker than her mind could tell them to. Sam fell to his knees, his eyes closed. Dean dropped in front of him and grabbed his younger brother's jacket to keep him upright.

"Bobby, stay!" she shouted as she ran after the man who'd stabbed Sam.

"Goddammit, Ariel!" Bobby cried, watching her run off. She could hear Dean shouting something, and she could hear Bobby cursing at her as she left him behind, but she knew that he knew she was a hell of a lot faster than he was and would be able to catch the bastard.

But as she chased the mysterious figure, she knew that she was running a losing race. Whoever this guy was, he was even faster than she was, and there wasn't anything entirely natural about how fast he was running. Her lungs burned with the effort to keep up with him, and she found that she was alone in the town, the darkness pressing in on her. She finally slowed and held her gun in her hand, trying as silently as she could to draw breath.

He was gone. The man was gone, and there wasn't anything she could do. She kept her gun up as she continued heavily panting. It'd been a long time since she'd run like that, and she still wasn't 100% better after her stab wound. It was then that she noticed the ache in her side, and she winced. Running so hard and so far hadn't done much for her mostly healed wound.

"SAM!"

Dean's cry of anguish split the night sky, and Ariel stopped breathing altogether. Only one result could've caused a sound so heartbreaking as that, and she knew that it wasn't good. She forced herself to ignore the pain in her side, and she pushed herself back into a run, sprinting to get back to Dean and Bobby as fast as she could.

She rounded the corner and found Dean still on his knees, grasping Sam tightly to him, his face contorted with indescribable pain. Frantically, she looked at Bobby for denial of what her intuition told her, but the expression on the hunter's face only confirmed her worst suspicions. As she neared them, she slowed to a stop, her face pale as she saw the amount of blood pouring through Sam's jacket.

"Bobby," she gasped out. Bobby crossed to her and suddenly grabbed her tight in his arms. She didn't know what to say or what to do; all she could do was hug him back tightly as the reality of the situation crashed down on her head. Sam was dead. They were too late. Sam was dead.


	12. Resurrection

**Ok, so I posted two chapters in one day.**

**You know the drill, let me know your thoughts, especially about whether or not y'all are interested in a Castiel/OC story!**

**I love reviews =)**

* * *

Chapter 12

The night had been unspeakably rough. Dean had insisted on taking Sam into an abandoned building and laying him down in there. He'd insisted on staying up the whole night with Sam, staring at his little brother. Ariel hadn't known the right or wrong thing to do. Finally, Dean had asked to be alone, and she'd granted him that, kissing him hard against his temple before walking out of the building to go stand on the porch with Bobby while they both grieved together.

Ariel hadn't known Sam that long; she couldn't stand there and weep and wail and carry on as if she'd known him her entire life, but she still felt an intense pain in her heart that made her sick to her stomach. She sat quietly on the porch with Bobby, her hand wrapped protectively around the bleeding, newly opened wound in her side. Unfortunately, her stab wound had reopened when she'd chased Sam's stabber. Thankfully, however, she'd managed to staunch the bleeding by keeping her hands pressed to the same spot on her side the entire not, never once moving her hands away from it. The whole front of her shirt was soaked with blood, and she felt shaky from losing so much of it.

Bobby had left some time ago to get food; she didn't know where he'd gone or anything. She just knew he was gone, and she was still on the porch. The sound of a car brought her attention back, and she gazed at Bobby as he pulled in. She watched him get out of the car and approach her, a bucket of chicken in his hand.

"You want any?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I'm not hungry," she replied slowly, the words feeling foreign and strange in her mouth as she spoke.

"Has Dean come out?"

"No. I don't think so."

"I'm gonna try to get him to eat. We need our strength."

"Yeah. Yeah, we do." She watched him walk past her and into the house. She continued to sit on the porch with her hands pressed to her wound for a few moments longer. She desperately wanted to do the right nothing, but she had no idea how to handle it. There was no easy way to deal with loss. There just wasn't an easy way. You had to take it as it came, and that was your only choice.

Finally, she made herself stand up, one hand pressed to her wound, and she walked into the house.

"—bury Sam?"

She caught the tail end of what Bobby was saying, and she frowned. Cautiously, she walked into the room where Dean and Bobby were standing. She saw Sam laid out on the mattress on the floor, and she swallowed hard, averting her gaze from the body.

"No," Dean answered, his gaze almost lethal as he lifted his eyes to Bobby's face. He didn't even register or acknowledge Ariel's presence, instead sitting down in a chair and taking his eyes off the hunter.

"We could…maybe—"

"What? Torch his corpse? Not yet," Dean stonily interrupted. Bobby bent over and rested his hands on his knees so that he was eye level with the older Winchester. Though now he was the only Winchester.

"I gotta get Ariel taken care of. I want you to come with Ariel and me," Bobby said calmly but firmly. Dean's gaze was hard and cold, and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Ariel stood frozen in her spot, unable to move as she watched the scene play out between the two. She felt uncomfortable; this wasn't her place, but it felt like whether she stayed or left, she'd be making the wrong choice. As she watched them, she felt as though she were watching something that was intensely private and not something that was meant for her outsider eyes.

The longer she stayed there, the dizzier she got. Whether it was from the stress of the night, the emotions of the past day, or the severe amount of blood loss, she wasn't sure. She just found it getting harder and harder to keep the room from spinning around her.

"I'm not going anywhere," Dean responded, a hint of a warning in his voice.

"Dean, please," Bobby begged, and his firm composure melted the slightest bit.

"Would you cut me some slack?" Dean growled sharply at the man. Ariel flinched at the attack in his voice, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to keep the room still in one spot. Maybe if she closed her eyes, the dizziness would go away. Kind of like how if something didn't work, the best fix was to turn it off and then back on.

"I just don't think you should be alone—that's all," Bobby protested. "I gotta admit—I could use your help."

Dean snorted and looked away, as though Bobby's mere presence was an annoyance to him. Ariel crossed further into the room so that she could stand with Bobby.

"Something big is going down—end of the world big," she said in a low monotone.

"Well then let it end!" Dean shouted, suddenly snapping. Again, Ariel visibly flinched, and she took a step back.

"You don't mean that," Bobby replied in a low tone.

"You don't think so?" Taking it as a challenge, Dean stood up and walked towards Bobby until he was nose to nose with him. The look on his face indicated that Dean was out for blood, and it didn't look good on his face.

"Huh?" he pressed. "You don't think I've given enough? You don't think I've paid enough? I'm done with it. All of it. And if you know what's good for you, you'd turn around and get the hell out of here." His green eyes flicked over to Ariel, finally acknowledging her for the first time since she'd come into the room. "_Both_ of you."

Bobby was silent, not wanting to believe everything Dean had just said. He continued to stare in disbelief at Dean as he found that he didn't recognize the young man in front of him. Dean snapped.

"Go!" he shouted, and he shoved Bobby hard. Bobby collided with Ariel, and Ariel, weak from the blood loss, was on the floor. Her head landed with a resounding smack against the hard surface, and she was disoriented, blinking hard and trying to make sense of her surroundings.

"Ariel? Ariel! Shit, we need to get you to a fucking hospital. Goddammit, Ariel!" Bobby's voice was in her ear, but she couldn't place where it was coming from. The room was still spinning as she felt Bobby lifting her back up to her feet.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Dean was saying. "I'm sorry."

And then she lost consciousness.

* * *

Ariel wasn't used to having people bustle about her, and she was getting crankier and crankier the longer she was in the hospital. Bobby was sitting by her bedside, snickering at her discomfort.

"I'm fine. I have brand new blood, brand new stitches, the whole nine yards. We've been here for hours. I'm all ready to go," she snapped impatiently.

"It's good for you to rest up. You've been going nonstop like the idjit you are," Bobby grumbled. She tossed him a glare and then rested her head back against the pillows.

"How long was I out?" she asked.

"A good two hours. The doctors finally got you stabilized, thank God. Didn't want to lose two—" Bobby stopped talking, pain coming across his face. Ariel chewed on the inside of her lip.

"Dean's fucked up pretty bad," she said softly.

"We all handle our grief in different ways. When Elliot died, I don't think you got out of bed for a week. Never shed a tear, though," Bobby answered, his tone matching hers. She closed her eyes at the mention of Elliot's name. She focused on her breathing, on keeping it even and relaxed as she lay there still as could be in the hospital bed.

"I've been dreaming about him." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Dreaming about Elliot?" Bobby asked. Opening her eyes, she nodded, not quite looking him in the eye.

"Actually, I guess I should say that he's been coming to me in dreams. To warn me whenever something dangerous is coming. He told me about the Furies, and he told me that something bad was going to happen right before Sam disappeared," she said slowly, her voice devoid of any kind of emotion.

"Ari—"

"I know," she interrupted shortly. "It's not natural. I can't explain it. I've never had these dreams before now. I just…he's just there, and he's exactly the same as when I last saw him."

Bobby opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, a knock on the door took them both out of their thoughts. Ariel looked towards the door, and her mouth dropped in astonishment as she saw Dean…with Sam. Instinctively, she looked towards Bobby and found his face mirroring hers.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said, his tone almost apologetic.

"Hey, Bobby. Hey, Ariel," Sam greeted with a wide grin on his narrow face as he crossed into the room. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

"Sam," she stammered, trying to mask her shock.

"It's good to…see you up and around," Bobby added as his eyes skimmed over the younger Winchester.

"Yeah, well, thanks for patching me up," Sam said earnestly, clapping a hand on Bobby's shoulder.

"Don't mention it," Bobby mumbled. Ariel saw him stare hard at Dean, giving him one of those looks that didn't mean anything good. Sam sat down in the other chair next to Ariel.

"I heard you passed out," he said good-naturedly. "Thank God you're doing ok, though."

"Yeah," she replied weakly, her eyes still on Bobby and Dean, scrutinizing Dean's face. He still hadn't looked at her or acknowledged her, but he had flowers in his hand.

"Well, Sam's better. And we're back in it now so…what do you know?" he asked stiffly with a forced laugh. An awkward tension was in the room, and Sam even seemed to notice it, glancing back towards the men as they stood there together, their eyes exchanging looks loaded with unsaid words.

"Hey, could I talk to Ariel alone?" Dean asked suddenly. Bobby made eye contact with Ariel, but she didn't make any indication of anything she was feeling. He looked warily back at Dean and nodded.

"Yeah, sure," he said noncommittally. Sam stood up and winked at her.

"I'll see you," he said, and both men left the room, shutting the door behind them. Ariel stared hard at Dean as he slowly moved towards her, the flowers in his hand. He sat down in the chair that was closest to her, the one that Bobby had been in. His green eyes were full of things he wanted to say, and he opened his mouth to speak, but words didn't seem to come out.

He could feel Ariel's intense blue stare on him as he failed to say anything, and he knew that he was only making things worse. He made himself look up, and he saw her looking at him with an expression of distaste and anger.

"What did you do?" she asked, her voice low and deathly quiet. Her eyes locked onto his, and he knew he couldn't look away, despite how badly he wanted to. He was quiet for a few moments, wishing he could look anywhere but her, but he knew he was stuck.

"I—"

"Don't you dare fucking lie to me," she snapped. "_What the fuck did you do_?"

"I made a deal," he responded. Ariel inhaled sharply, and she blinked hard, her eyes suddenly swimming. She ripped her gaze away from him, and she turned her head as far in the opposite direction that she could get so that he couldn't see her face. For the first time since she'd gotten her hair cut short several months ago, she wished that her hair was long to hide her face.

"So in 10 years—"

"One year," Dean interrupted. She kept her head turned, her eyes squeezing shut as tight as she get them to close to keep her emotions at bay. One year. Surely she'd heard wrong. Crossroad demons gave 10 years; that was the deal. But that was the _usual_ deal; for the Winchesters, of course it would be a skewed deal, and they'd wind up getting fucked in the end. It didn't surprise her in the slightest; if she'd been the one to make a deal, she knew she'd get the terrible end of the deal, too. That still didn't mean it hurt any less.

"One year," she repeated emotionlessly.

"Ariel, I'm sorry," he breathed. "I'm so sorry. I had to."

"You don't have to do anything," she slowly responded. "You made the choice to."

"What, are you saying that if you didn't have the chance to bring Elliot back, you wouldn't?" Dean demanded.

"Shut up," she snapped, her head whipping back around to look at him, suddenly not caring if he saw her emotions. "Don't talk about him."

"Look, I don't know what you want me to do. I had to make that choice," Dean whispered.

"Now you don't have to worry about me killing you when you break my heart," she said. "You're off the hook."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?" Dean snapped. "Because it doesn't."

"Don't you dare get mad at me," she blandly replied. "I'm not the one who's—" Her voice shut off then as tears welled thickly in the back of her throat and swelled it shut. "Fuck."

"I guess it wasn't the smartest thing in the world to get a girlfriend and then make a deal to die," Dean said. She glared at him, trying to see if he was joking or not, and was unable to reach a conclusion.

"No one said anything about a girlfriend," she sharply answered. She sighed, brushing a hand over her face. "Why are we having this conversation _now_? Why didn't we do it two weeks ago or something? Why'd it take Sam dying and your resurrecting him to make it happen?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do," Dean said. He moved to the edge of his seat and put his hand on the bed. He didn't touch her, and she gave him a warning look that told him not to. Despite herself, tears began to fall down her cheeks, and she leaned her head back on the pillow and turned her face away from Dean.

"Just go, ok?" she sighed. "Please go."

"Don't you do that," Dean growled. "Don't you write me off because I can't stand the thought of my brother being dead."

"And you thought I could stand the thought of Elliot being dead?" she hissed tearfully, her eyes flashing through their wetness in fury as she impaled him with her stare. "Do you know how many demons I tried to deal with to get him back? Every single fucking one refused to deal with me because they're not allowed to touch me. That was when I learned that I'm off limits to them because the Furies marked me as _their_ kill."

Dean gazed levelly at her, all the fight drained out of his face, and he leaned his forehead against the rail of the hospital bed. He was just inches away from her hand, silent and forgiving. With her right hand, Ariel wiped the tears from her face, and with her left hand, she reached out and threaded her fingers through his hair. Dean sighed, the calm and peace that he associated with her touch coming over him.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated. He grabbed her hand and pressed her palm against his cheekbone, turning into her touch and kissing her palm. A sob shook Ariel, and he squeezed his eyes tight to hide from her pain.

"Does Bobby know?" she asked. He opened his eyes and shook his head morosely.

"No. I haven't told him yet," he said. "But Sam is _not_ to find out. Please don't tell him."

She sighed and wiped her face again with her free hand. "I guess I don't have a choice. It's not my place to tell."

"Thank you," he murmured. He stood up and leaned over the side of the bed to kiss her on the cheek. He saw her close her eyes at the touch of his lips, and he sighed gently, resting his forehead against hers. "A lot can happen in a year."

"I know," she said softly. "So we'd better start now. Toss me my clothes, would you?"

He pulled back with a frown on his face, his eyes searching hers. Her tears weren't freely falling anymore, and she wore a tired but determined look on her face.

"What?" he asked.

"My clothes," she repeated, pointing a bag on the floor across from her. "I'm busting out."

"You sure you feel ok?" he asked. She gave him a pointed glare with one eyebrow raised.

"I'm peachy," she quipped. "Clothes."

"Huh, I always thought I'd be helping you undress, not helping you get dressed," Dean responded with a smirk as he tossed the bag to her. He expected some kind of sharp rebuke, but she grinned back at him with a playful wink.

"I'm sure you're better at the former than the latter," she retorted. Then she frowned, as if a thought had suddenly come to her. "Remind me again how five minutes ago, I was set on killing you, and now I'm mentally undressing you."

"Mentally undressing me, huh?" Dean grinned. "I guess I'm that good."

Ariel pulled out her IV and stood up shakily, holding the railing of the bed for support as she slipped into her jeans. She began untying the back of her hospital gown, and she smirked at Dean, who was awkwardly trying to figure out if he should stay or go.

"I have a bra on, so you're not really getting a peep show," she said, letting the gown drop to her feet.

"Yeah, well, _you're_ not getting a peep show," Dean retorted, keeping his eyes from traveling down her half-bare body as she slipped on her now clean flannel and put her feet into her Timberlands. He caught sight of her newly bandaged wound, and he inwardly winced at the sight of it. The last time he'd seen her, she'd passed out because of it. Glancing down over herself, Ariel grimaced and wrinkled her nose in dissatisfaction.

"I can't wait to get out of this get up," she grumbled. She looked up at him and gestured with her head. "Come on. Let's blow this joint."

Dean crossed towards her with every intention of being gentle and careful with her due to her injury, so he was surprised when she suddenly grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him close to her, bringing his head down to hers. Her lips hungrily kissed him, and he was just as hungrily touching her and grabbing her, taking what he could get from her. He could taste the hurt and the anger lingering on her tongue, and he took and swallowed as much her pain as he could, knowing that he was the cause for it. He felt the wall behind him, and he grinned as he turned and pressed Ariel against the wall, pressing her hard against him in places he knew he wouldn't hurt her.

"I'm still mad at you," she mumbled through their vengeful kisses. "I'm really fucking mad at you. But if you've got a year left, might as well not waste a second of it."

"You talk too much," he replied, his tongue snaking along her lower lip. "What happened to busting out, anyway?"

She paused, pulling back a little bit to look at him.

"Huh, I guess we should probably do that before the nurses come back and try to get me to stay," she said. She pulled him down for one last kiss, hard and unforgiving before she smirked at him. "Alright, Casanova, let's roll."

Dean groaned and released his hold from her, awkwardly adjusting his jeans to hide how much he'd really enjoyed that make out session. She grinned at him and opened the door, leaving it open for him to follow because she knew he would. Where she went, he would follow.

* * *

Ariel leaned against the doorway of the living room as she stared at Ellen Harvelle, who was sitting at a table right in front of her. She frowned as she watched Ellen protest drinking holy water but then giving into it to ease Bobby's concerns. Sam and Dean were sitting near Ellen, all of them intently watching her.

"Ellen, what happened? How'd you get out?" she asked curiously.

"I wasn't supposed to," the woman answered honestly, looking over at Ariel. "I was supposed to be in there with everybody else. But we ran out of pretzels, of all things. It was just dumb luck." She swallowed the whiskey that Bobby had rewarded her with for obliging him and drinking the holy water. "Anyway, that's when Ash called. Panic in his voice. He told me to look in the safe. Then the call cut out. By the time I got back, the flames were sky-high. And everybody was dead. I couldn't have been gone more than 15 minutes."

"Sorry, Ellen," Sam said morosely from his spot. Ariel walked further into the room, going and standing by Dean.

"A lot of good people died in there," Ellen said, her voice shaking with emotion. "And I got to live. Lucky me."

Ariel's thoughts immediately went to Danielle, her friend who'd died in the fire. Hunters never met an easy, normal death, that was for certain. She swallowed hard but kept her emotions down to listen to Ellen.

"Ellen, you mentioned a safe," Bobby spoke up, completely changing course.

"A hidden safe we keep in the basement."

"Demons get what was in it?" Ariel questioned.

"No." Ellen pulled out a map and unfolded it, placing it on the table so that everyone could see what was on it. Everyone crowded around to get a better look, pensive frowns on their faces as they struggled to make sense of what was in front of them, of what was so important that Ash had been killed.

"Wyoming. What does that mean?" Dean asked and pointed to some lines on the map that didn't exactly make sense to him. Bobby pulled the map closer to him.

"Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "I'll be goddamned if that's what I think it is."

"Bobby, what is it?" Ariel asked. He looked at her, his eyes wide with curiosity and disbelief.

"Just give me a minute," he said and disappeared to go grab something. Sam, Dean, Ariel, and Ellen were all left together. Ellen glanced back and forth between all three of them, looking mildly amused at seeing all three hunters in one spot together.

"So you all finally teamed up?" she asked.

"Something like that," Dean answered in a vague tone. He sneaked a peek at Ariel and saw her hiding a smirk. He knew she was still mad at him; he felt it radiating off of her through every kiss she gave him, and he knew that their conversation about it at the hospital wouldn't be the last conversation they had concerning the deal.

"It's been a while since I last saw you, Ariel," Ellen said, mildly accusingly but with a hint of a smile on her face. "Is it too much for you to cue me on what's going on with you? For all I knew, you could be dead."

"Oh, I'm not dead. Not just yet," Ariel responded, smiling back at the woman, but Dean could feel that the comment was directed towards him. He glanced at Sammy, ignoring the pang of guilt in his heart. Sam still had no clue what was going on, and Dean intended to keep it that way.

"I don't believe it," Bobby murmured as he made his way back into the room with an open book in his hands. He walked towards the table and set it down, staring at it in awe.

"What? You got something?" Sam asked excitedly.

"A lot more than that. Each of these X's is an abandoned frontier church—all mid-19th century. And all of them built by Samuel Colt." Bobby glanced around at everyone's faces to gauge their reaction. Dean stared at Bobby, recognizing the name all too well.

"Samuel Colt—the demon-killing, gun-making Samuel Colt?" he clarified.

"Yep. And there's more. He built private railway lines connecting church to church. It just happens to lay out like this." Bobby leaned over and connected all the X's into the shape of a star. Ariel lifted her eyebrows as she watched the shape take form.

"Well, I'm impressed and only slightly more confused," she remarked. Dean felt her lean over his shoulder, her hand sliding across his back as she moved in closer to get a better look. He glanced at Ellen and saw her staring curiously. She certainly never missed anything, and she definitely wasn't missing this bit of physical contact between him and Ariel.

"Wait—tell me that's not what I think it is," she said as her eyes began to look even more closely at the star on the map.

"It's a Devil's Trap. A 100 square mile Devil's Trap," Sam concluded.

"That's fucking brilliant," Dean said, rubbing his mouth with his hand. "Iron lines demons can't cross."

"I've never heard of anything that massive," Ellen spoke up, impressed.

"No one has," Bobby agreed.

"And after all these years none of the lines are broken?" Dean asked disbelievingly. "I mean, it still works?"

"Definitely," Sam confirmed. Ariel frowned at him.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"All those omens Bobby found. I mean, the demons, they must be circling, and they can't get in," he explained. He and Dean exchanged a look between each other.

"Yeah, well, they're trying," Bobby scoffed.

"Why? What's inside?" Ellen questioned.

"That's what I've been looking for. And, uh, there's nothing except for an old cowboy cemetery right in the middle," Dean said and pointed to a spot on the map to solidify his point. Ariel pulled a chair out and sat down next to him. Her mouth was twisted in that look she got whenever she was thinking hard. Her blue eyes weren't focused on the map; she was looking at it, but she wasn't quite seeing it as she ran through possible theories.

"Well, what's so important about a cemetery, or…what Colt's trying to protect?" Sam asked in a confused tone.

"Well, unless…" Ariel started slowly, her voice loaded with a suggestion that she seemed hesitant to make. Dean looked at her, his gaze settling over her clear, open face.

"Unless what?" Bobby asked. She looked up at Bobby, the suggestion right on the edge of her lips.

"What if Colt wasn't trying to keep the demons out? What if he was trying to keep something _in_?" she asked.

"Now that's a comforting thought," Ellen quipped sarcastically.

"Yeah, you think?" Ariel smirked.

"Could they do it, Bobby? Could they get inside?" Sam asked, looking at the older hunter for answers.

"This things so powerful you'd practically need an A-bomb to destroy it," the man replied. "No way a full-blood demon gets across it."

"No," Sam suddenly agreed, and he paused. His hazel eyes were focused as he thought. "But I know who could."

* * *

"This is a sure plan to get us killed," Ariel whispered to Dean from behind the tombstone they were crouched behind. "I've never met Yellow Eyes, but from what you all tell me about him, he's a nasty son of a bitch."

"Understatement of the century," Dean replied smoothly. "We won't get killed. All of us together, we'll make a good team."

"I don't know, man. I don't know."

"What are you so nervous about, anyway? You usually have your head on clean." Dean shot her a concerned glance and studied her face. His legs were aching to be stretched as he kept them beneath him to hold his hidden place. He and Ariel were pressed tight together, the whole sides of their bodies colliding together.

"I just have a really bad feeling about this is all," she sighed. "Then again, when _don't_ I have a bad feeling about hunting monsters?"

Suddenly, a sound caught her ear, and she shut her mouth quickly. She and Dean exchanged a look, their bodies tensed and prepared. Dean could feel her nervousness, and he was still unsure why she was so nervous. Sure, he was nervous in the way that someone couldn't _not_ be nervous about what was about to happen, but he wasn't nervous in the same way she was. If he didn't know her better, he could've sworn he detected some fear in the usually fearless hunter beside him.

The man who'd stabbed Sam—his name was Jake, Dean had learned—walked into the cemetery. He was tall and strangely calm-looking, one foot stepping in front of the other as he crossed towards the giant crypt in front of him. Dean looked towards Sam for the cue. Sam looked back, making eye contact each with Ellen, Bobby, Dean, and Ariel to make the signal.

"Howdy, Jake," Sam said as he stepped out from his hiding place. The others followed suit, their guns raised and eyes blazing as they stepped forward to confront the man who stood before them. As Dean stood still, he could feel the adrenaline and the anger coursing through his blood. This man in front of them had killed his brother, had given him no other choice than to make the deal that would send him straight to hell within a year.

Jake stared at Sam as though Sam were a ghost, his eyes wide and disbelieving in his skull. He even took a step backward, the slightest flicker of fear crossing his thin face.

"Wait…you were dead. I killed you," he said.

"Yeah? Well, next time finish the job," Sam snapped.

"I did!" Jake protested. "I cut clean through your spinal cord, man."

Sam looked at Dean, and the older Winchester found that he couldn't quite meet Sam's eyes, instead looking away from his brother as he held his ground, gun still raised.

"You can't be alive. You can't be," Jake whispered.

"Ok, just take it real easy there, son," Bobby spoke up. Jake's eyes landed on Bobby, his surprised expression melting away to be replaced by one of someone not impressed.

"And if I don't?" Jake's voice was colored with a dark, threatening challenge, and it only made Dean angrier. A dark fury rushed through his blood so loudly he couldn't hear the sounds of the night around him.

"Wait and see," Sam quietly threatened, unafraid of the man before him.

"What, you a tough guy all of a sudden? What are you gonna do—kill me?" Jake asked, nonplussed.

"It's a thought," Sam answered.

"You had your chance. You couldn't." Jake shook his head as he smiled patronizingly at the previously dead Winchester.

"I won't make that mistake twice," Sam threatened.

Jake began laughing, and that right there pissed Dean off, and he couldn't hold his anger back anymore.

"What are you smiling at, you little bitch?" he hissed.

"Hey, gorgeous, do me a favor. Put that gun to your head," Jake ordered. Dean watched in horror as Ariel's hand brought her gun up against her temple, her navy blue eyes wide with shock as she realized that she couldn't fight her body on what it was doing.

"See that Ava girl was right," Jake said smoothly. "Once you give in to it, there's all sorts of new Jedi mind tricks you can learn."

"Let her go!" Sam demanded.

"Shoot him," Ariel firmly ordered Sam, her blue eyes never once leaving Jake. She no longer looked surprised. She didn't even look afraid; she just looked surprisingly calm, much to Dean's increased horror. His heart was thudding inside his ribcage as he realized how close to death she was. His muscles yearned to go pummel Jake to a pulp, but he knew he wouldn't be able to do it without Jake firing a shot into Ariel's skull. The fear and the anger rose in the back of his throat.

"You'll be mopping up skull before you get a shot off," Jake coolly warned Sam. "Everybody, put your guns down. Except you, sweetheart."

Dean reluctantly set his gun down, his helpless feeling in his chest increasing as he saw that without his gun, there really wasn't anything he could do to save Ariel. He looked at her in disbelief as he saw the calm, unafraid look she was wearing. Hell, she even looked as though she had a challenging expression on her face.

"You can't kill me," Ariel said calmly without a trace of fear in her voice.

"Excuse me? I think I can," Jake replied, a cold, hard look settling into his dark brown eyes. She laughed shortly and gave him a knowing look.

"You can't. There's a hit out on me," she said in a low voice. "You think you're so big and tough and dark, huh? Well, we'll see how you do when the Furies get their hands on you."

"They wouldn't touch me," Jake growled.

"Oh, so you _have_ heard of them," she easily replied. "And if you've heard of them, you've heard of me. I'm Ariel Easton, motherfucker. Strict orders from the Furies that no demon—or demon spawn for that matter—can kill me."

Recognition passed over Jake's eyes, and she smiled when she saw it. He paused, unsure what to do, his eyes boring into hers. She could sense Dean's panic, and she wished that she could give him a sign that she was ok; she was right, though. If Jake knew about the Furies, he knew about the hit they'd placed on her. She was strictly off limits to demons; technically, they could harm her all they wanted to, but they weren't allowed to kill her, directly or indirectly.

"I'm not afraid of them," Jake said finally. He smirked and then turned back to the crypt, drawing out the Colt from his pocket. At the speed of lightning, he inserted it into a keyhole in the crypt just as four bullets entered his back. At the same time, Dean and Ellen leapt at Ariel, pulling the gun away from her head just as a shot fired from it. Ariel gasped as she fell against Dean's chest.

"You're ok, you're ok, I've got you!" he was shouting over the sound of the bullets. He quickly glanced up to see if Sam had everything under control, and honestly, his little brother looked like he had the situation in perfect control, so he turned his attention back to Ariel. Her blue eyes were wide as she stared up at him, nodding that she was ok and understood that she was safe.

"Thanks, guys," she said shakily. Ellen clapped her on the shoulder.

"We need someone to keep these boys in check," she quipped. Ariel smiled and then directed her gaze towards the crypt; creaking noises were coming from it, and that wasn't promising. She frowned and pushed herself off of Dean's chest, even though she wanted to stay there forever and not have to deal with any of this shit.

"Something's happening. Come on," Bobby spoke up. He crossed over to Ariel and pulled her into a tight hug as they walked towards Sam, the remains of Jake, and the crypt. As he passed Sam, he gave the boy a hard look, and Sam looked away. Dean paused by Jake's body as he looked down at it and then back at Sam. Sam wiped away a spot of blood on his face, his hazel eyes dilated with the adrenaline.

As Ariel, Ellen, and Bobby reached the crypt, the crypt stopped making noise. Ariel saw the spinning discs around the inserted Colt forming a star shape.

"Oh, no," Bobby whispered.

"Bobby, what the fuck is it?" she asked frantically.

"It's hell," Bobby answered shakily, the panic rising in his voice. "Ariel, get out of here! Go!"

"It's hell?" Dean demanded, running forward and yanking the Colt out of the crypt. He turned to look at Bobby and saw the older man with his hands grasping Ariel's shoulders as he shouted at her.

"Ariel, get the hell out of here! Go!" he was shouting.

"Bobby—" she started, but he pushed her.

"Ariel, the Furies will kill you. Get the fuck out of here! Run!" he cried. Dean froze in place as he watched Ariel's blue eyes fill with panic, unsure of what to do or where to go. She looked over at him, and his mouth was suddenly so dry that he couldn't speak. Finally, he swallowed hard.

"Go!" he shouted.

"Take cover, now!" Bobby yelled, and before Dean could see where Ariel had gone, Sam had yanked him and pulled him behind him. Dean was running, and he flipped over a tombstone and dug his heels into the ground to keep from sliding as he took his place behind the headstone. His heart was pounding so loudly that he could hear it thumping against his ribs, it seemed.

Suddenly, blackness was flying out of the crypt all around him, and there was a loud roaring as it flew by.

"What the fuck just happened?" he cried over the roar of it all.

"That's the Devil's Gate! A damn door to hell!" Ellen shouted back. "Come on, we've gotta shut that gate!"

They all rolled out from their positions behind the tombstones and began running towards the gate except for Dean. Dean stood in place, and he looked down at the Colt in his hand. He lifted it up to his face and checked it for bullets. There was no going back now.

* * *

The next 10 minutes happened in a whirl, but nothing could've prepared Dean for the most remarkable thing. He'd been slammed into a tombstone and a tree, and he was facing death when it happened.

John Winchester pulled the demon out of its host's body, and he began fighting it. Dean stared wide-eyed for a few seconds, but then he came back into his body and lunged forward, yanking the Colt from the host's hand. He backed up just in time as John was thrown off of the demon, landing several feet away as Yellow Eyes repossessed its body. He watched Yellow Eyes pull himself up to his feet, ready to kill the boys in front of him when Dean pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit Yellow Eyes, and there were several bright flashes of light as the life was ripped away from the demon. The demon dropped to the ground, dead. Sam fell away from the tree as Yellow Eyes's hold on him was severed, and he fell gasping to his knees. His hazel eyes landed on John, his dad standing tall in front of them. He and Dean scrambled to their feet as they walked towards him.

Dean barely felt the blood running down as his face as he stared at his father. John looked at him and smiled, that one smile telling Dean more than he ever could have said with words. The backs of Dean's eyes were stinging as he watched John approach him, and he tried to keep his lips from trembling when John placed a hand on his shoulder, his smile still on his face.

John looked over at Sam and nodded, beaming at his younger son. When he looked back at Dean, a tear was streaming down his face, and he backed away slowly, flickering and disappearing in front of them. Hot tears filled Dean's eyes, and he silently begged them not to spill down his face. He needed to stay strong in front of brother. He looked over at Sam and saw the heartbroken look in his little brother's warm hazel eyes as the tears streamed down his own face.

"Ariel? Ariel!"

Bobby's voice drew him back to Earth, and he slowly came back to his senses. He wiped his hand across his face and scanned over the cemetery.

"Ariel!" he shouted, a slow panic beginning to fill him again.

"Girl, where are you? Ariel!" Bobby cried.

"Bobby!" Ariel shouted back. Relief hit Dean in the heart as he saw her approaching from the woods, staggering and nearly falling several times but looking otherwise unharmed. As she neared, he saw blood streaming from a cut near her head, but she was smiling as Bobby pulled her into a second tight hug that night.

"What the hell happened to you?" the hunter asked her, pulling back to look at her.

"Well, I'd just made it to the tree line when the gates were opened, and the force of it knocked me over," she replied. "I stayed hidden behind some logs until it was over."

"You stupid, stupid girl," Bobby snapped but hugged her again. "You should've started running when I told you to."

"I don't listen to orders, Bobby," she said with a smile. Her gaze landed on Dean, and she smiled hesitantly at him. He suddenly crossed to her, tears in his eyes as he wrapped her into his own tight hug and held her pressed up against him. Her arms wrapped back around him, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she hugged him back. She had never felt safer.

* * *

"That doesn't like it's going that well," Ariel remarked as Bobby cleaned out her cut. His dark eyes glanced over to where the brothers were standing, clearly arguing.

"It's about damn time Dean told Sam the truth," he said gruffly. Ariel winced at the sting of the alcohol against her forehead.

"I don't think Sam's taking it well," she said. He patted the cut and then tried to place gauze on it but was waved away by Ariel's impatient hand. "I don't do bandages on my face. Makes me look hardcore without one."

Bobby scoffed, "You look like a fool is more like it."

"Well, Yellow Eyed Demon might be dead. But a lot more got through that gate," Ellen said, interrupting an obviously emotional moment between the two brothers. Dean visibly pulled himself together as he turned his attention back towards the rest of the group. His eyes were watery, but he cleared his throat, walking back to everyone.

"How many you think?" he asked.

"Hundred. Maybe two hundred. It's an army. He's unleashed an army," Sam answered gravely.

"Hope to hell you boys are ready. 'Cause the war has just begun," Bobby announced.

"_They_ better be ready," Ariel said, gesturing with her head towards the rest of the world where the demons had gone. "There's gonna be hell to pay. Pun intended."

Dean grinned at her, "Well, then," he paused to open the Impala's trunk and throw the Colt into the back with the rest of the arsenal. "We got work to do."


	13. Omens

**Shoutouts to roxylove7 and tigereyekum for reviewing!**

**Season three, guys! Now's where I'm going to start skipping the "non-significant" episodes that don't contribute to the overall arc of the story. Don't worry, though, there are a lot of episodes that will include Ariel since I definitely want interaction between her with both Bela and Ruby. Bela and Ruby (the Katie Cassidy Ruby) are two of my favorite characters, so Ariel will get to spend a lot of time with them both.**

**Just as a warning, this story is now an M-rating. There is an explicit sex scene in this chapter, and there will be more smut in future chapters. You've been warned ;)**

**Please drop me a line, and let me know what you think! Enjoy =)**

**(P.S. Ariel's nickname "Ar" is pronounced like "air." Just a clarification.)**

* * *

Chapter 13

Dean sat on Ariel's bed as he watched her dig through the top drawer of her dresser. The exhaustion was setting into his bones, and he could feel the bleeding bump at his hairline starting to hurt. The adrenaline had kept him so high that he hadn't been able to feel it until they'd gotten back to Bobby's just moments ago. Bobby and Sam had taken turns at driving because Dean's wrist and arm were slightly swollen from when Yellow Eyes had slammed him against a tombstone. Sam was taking the couch downstairs for the night, letting Ellen have the room that he and Dean usually stayed in.

"Here we go," Ariel announced, pulling an Ace bandage out from the drawer and turned around to present it to him. Her lights in her room were off, but he didn't need the lights on to make out the object in her hand.

"Yahtzee," he concluded. "I told you I'm fine. Little bit of Advil, and I'm good to go."

"Humor me," she deadpanned as she crossed the room. She sat down next to him on the bed, her body facing him as she took his left wrist in her hand. "How bad does it hurt?"

"Not that much since the Advil kicked in an hour or so ago," he replied. He still allowed her to carefully and tightly wrap his wrist with the bandage but only because he longed for her touch on his skin. Her hands were warm and cool all at the same time, and he didn't want her to stop touching him.

"So Sam took it pretty hard?" Ariel asked. Her voice was forcibly pleasant, and he looked at her face, seeing a mask of pain set over her lovely features that made her so familiar to him. He cleared his throat and reluctantly nodded. She only nodded in response and acknowledgement of his physical answer.

"I can't believe you only get a year," she said sullenly.

"We don't have to talk about it," Dean answered her, his green eyes searching over her face. His hand was in hers, and she wasn't looking at him. He'd learned that she didn't look at him when she didn't want him to see her face; she knew that her face expressed everything she was thinking and feeling, and that was dangerous for her when it came to Dean. She didn't want him to see just how deeply she felt about his impending death.

"Hey. Look at me," he said. He smoothed her short blonde hair back from her face as he tucked his head down a little bit to see her more clearly. Finally, she looked at him, and he saw her eyes watering, the pain reflecting so sharply in them that he held his breath. She tried to smile and shrug, but it came off as more of a grimace and a jerk of her shoulders.

"It's been a long couple of days," she said with a forced laugh. "A lot—a lot's happened, and—um—"

Her words were cut off by Dean taking her head in both of his hands and gazing at her so seriously that her voice just shut off on its own. She tried to smile and again failed, the attempt so heartbreaking that Dean couldn't stand it anymore. He moved his mouth to hers and kissed her. The kiss wasn't rough or scalding the way it had been at the hospital; it was soft and uninhibited, pained and sweet. Her mouth moved against his as she gave him everything she received from him.

A new kind of urgency moved from Dean's lips to Ariel's, and within seconds, he'd pulled her onto his lap, her legs falling on either side of his hips in a straddle. A sigh passed from her lips, and her hands gripped him more firmly as she took hold of him. Moving her mouth away from his, she trailed kisses along his too perfect jawline, and she smiled when she heard his breath catch in his throat at the sensation of it. Her hands skimmed over his broad, muscled chest, and she pushed his flannel button down over his shoulders, all the while aching to touch his bare skin.

Dean knew this was long overdue, and his blood ran hot at her touch, even through his t-shirt. His hands skimmed under the bottom of her flannel shirt, and she shook her head intensely, a smile in her eyes as she denied him the feel of her skin.

"Not yet," she murmured against his neck, sending a chill down his spine in the most pleasant way possible. Her hands ducked under his t-shirt, possessively riding up his sides as she lifted the shirt up with them. Lifting his arms, he allowed her to take his t-shirt off, aching all the while to have her hands back on him. And then they were. Her soothing touch was back, and a soft groan released from his throat as he closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her hands on his bare chest, his shoulders, his back.

Ariel stared at him, fully appreciating the body of the man in front of her. This was the first time she'd seen him shirtless, and it was well worth the wait. His firm, solid bulk was all muscle, and it made her mouth go dry to look at him. He was holding her breath under her stare, his green eyes watching her fingers trace over the leftover scars he had. Bullet holes, stab scars, and cuts and scrapes of every kind marred his skin, but she only found him even more beautiful. His muscles were tense in anticipation as she touched him. Her fingers moved to his anti-possession tattoo, the tip of her index finger running lightly over it until he couldn't stand the torture of it.

"Your turn," he said, his tone showing that he wasn't fucking around. She didn't argue with him but instead helped him unbutton her flannel and eagerly shrugged it off when they'd both swiftly completed the task. Without warning, he slid his arm around her waist and flipped her onto her back so that he was above her. His lips left a hot trail down her body as he kissed lower and lower, stilling by her wound. She'd removed the bandage earlier that day, so the stitches were visible. For a moment, she was self-conscious, and she felt her cheeks flush pink in the darkness of her room. He sweetly and lightly kissed the top of her stitches, taking extra care not to hurt her. His green eyes flicked upwards to make sure that she was ok, and there was a fire burning in them that she hadn't seen before.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbled against her skin before he sat up on his knees, his weight pushed back towards his heels as he began undoing his belt. Ariel swallowed hard as she found herself becoming even more turned on by the sight of him unbuttoning and unzipping his typical jeans. His eyes were husky in their lust, and he smirked at her as he pushed his jeans down over his hips.

"My turn," she said, smirking back at him as she unbuttoned and unzipped her own jeans, only to be intercepted halfway through by Dean pulling them down for her. She grinned as he gently used his knee to push her thighs apart and settle between them, careful to avoid her wound. His lips were on her neck, and she put her hands on his back, feeling his muscles expand and contract as he moved above her. She could feel his erection pressing against her through his boxers, and she tilted her hips to gather friction between them.

His moan rolled into her mouth, and she swallowed it with a gasp as one hand moved beneath her and unhooked her bra in a quick flick. He chuckled softly at her inhalation, the vibration of the sound in his throat making her stomach flutter. In seconds, her bra was gone, and his mouth was offering kisses on her breasts. As he moved down her ribcage, he paused when it was his turn to see her anti-possession tattoo. It was strategically placed just where a bra would hide it. No one could see it if she wore a tank top or a dress, and she was still protected. He pressed a lingering kiss on her tattoo before moving back to her breasts. She sighed happily as he took a nipple in his mouth. Goosebumps covered her body, and she arched her hips in pleasure. She didn't allow him to linger there as long as she would've liked, pulling his head back up to her mouth and reaching her hand between his legs and down his boxers to grasp him firmly in her hand.

He froze above her, his breathing stilted as he closed his eyes at the feel of her touching him. His hips pushed into her hand, desperate for any kind of friction that he could get. She stroked him for a few more seconds before he took her hand away. Wordlessly, they exchanged a look that only meant one thing: now.

Quickly, he removed his boxers, and she removed her underwear, and they were completely bared in front of each other. Dean settled himself again between her thighs as he stared at the beautiful woman beneath him. He held himself over her so that he wouldn't hurt her in any way but just close enough so that he could feel every inch of her smooth, bare skin. Her curves were soft and molded against him, and he found that he was breathing shallowly as he stared heatedly into her dark blue eyes.

One hand skimmed up her side, and he leaned down and kissed her shoulder. He kissed her neck and her jaw and her collarbone. He couldn't get enough of her, and he was hungry for every single fucking inch of her skin. His hand moved back down to her thigh, and he grasped it firmly before moving his hand between them and sliding a finger inside her.

She gasped at the penetration, her eyes shutting and her head pressing into the pillow at the sheer pleasure of it. She was hot and wet already, and for a brief second, Dean wondered if he was going to lose it before he'd even gotten inside her yet. He slid another finger in, and she arched her back, moaning at the feeling. She opened her eyes and took his face between her hands.

"Now," she commanded.

He didn't argue.

He moved his hand and pressed his hips against hers, using his hand to line himself up accordingly. With one slow thrust, he was inside her. He stilled, willing his heart to slow down and his lungs to work. She also stilled as she allowed her body to accommodate to his size. She was gazing up at him with hooded eyes, and she finally moved her head in a slight nod. Dean lowered his mouth to hers and began to move. He pulled back and pushed back into her agonizingly slowly, taking his time to enjoy her body. Pleasured sighs against his neck and light moans drifted from her lips, telling him that she was enjoying the movement of his hips into hers.

The heat in the pit of his stomach began to burn, and he gradually picked up the pace. His thrusts went deeper, and her gasps more frequent. She gripped him tightly to her, her fingernails digging into the skin of his back as he moved harshly between her legs. The pace and the depth was what she needed, and it wasn't long before she felt a familiar clenching of muscles in her stomach. Dean could sense it, and he thrusted deeper, hitting that spot she needed. Her eyes wide open, she released a muffled cry into his shoulder as the orgasm ripped through her body. The fire radiating between her legs spread out through her whole body as it overcame her.

"Dean," she gasped into his ear, and he pressed his lips against hers. His hips continued their relentless pace, thrusting over and over and over inside her. She saw the muscles of his jaw tighten, and she knew he wasn't far away from his own release. She lifted her knees higher up towards her shoulders as she gave him the access that he needed. Tilting her hips upward, she lightly nipped his shoulder with her teeth. She could feel another orgasm building inside her body, and she grabbed his shoulder blades in her hands as he took her over the edge again.

She tightened around him, and that was the trigger he needed. With a violent shake, he began to come inside her.

"Ah—Ariel!" he gasped, his forehead falling against her shoulder as the orgasm pulled him apart and took away his senses. He was lost in sensation. Nothing existed but the two of them; he couldn't see, and he couldn't hear. He could only feel the intense pleasure as it tore him to pieces, and he could only taste the lingering salt of her skin on his tongue. Gasping for breath, he came back into himself, and his lips moved to her collarbone. He gently kissed the thin skin and drew back to look at her.

Ariel's face was flushed with pleasure and enjoyment, her mouth spread in a wide grin as she gazed up at him. He smiled down at her, a low laugh rising out of his throat and falling across her skin.

"Wow," he groaned, and he dropped his forehead down to her shoulder again as he caught his breath.

"That was…yeah…" she weakly responded with her own laugh. Once they'd both caught their breath, he gently pulled out of her and eased back off of her. She gently got up and dressed, putting her underwear and his t-shirt on before moving to the bathroom. While she was gone, he breathlessly put his boxers back on and settled under the comforter on her bed.

He heard the padding of her feet down the hall as she came back in. She silently shut the door behind her and returned to him in the bed. Grabbing her around the waist, though being careful not to hurt her, he pulled her down under the blankets with him.

"You just got laid by Ariel Easton," she said with a smirk as she allowed him to pull her so that her face was in front of his.

"Dude, sometimes I swear you're a guy," Dean remarked. She snickered.

"So you just fucked a guy," she retorted. His teasing smile instantly dropped as soon as the thought crossed his mind, and he shook his head vehemently against the pillow.

"You had to take it there," he mumbled, dramatically rolling his eyes. He looked evenly at her as the light moment began to get heavier between them. "Hey. I want to spend the rest of my year with you."

The pain that had invaded her eyes earlier was back, and he was almost sorry for bringing the subject up, but he had to let her know; she had to know that he wasn't intending on wasting a single second with her. She blinked, and the pain was gone, a fierce determination taking its place.

"I'm getting you out of that deal," she said firmly.

"No," he growled back. "You're not. If the demon finds out that I'm trying to get out of my deal, she said Sam would go back to being dust, and she'd hand-deliver you to the Furies."

Ariel jerked back slightly, the look on her face as if he'd slapped her.

"What?" she asked in disbelief. Dean gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening as he couldn't look her in the eyes.

"The bitch said it was for insurance. Just to guarantee that I didn't try to get out. She knew I wouldn't do anything to kill both Sammy _and_ you," he replied. His voice was emotionless, but she could hear the turmoil roiling beneath his words. She breathed hard and put her hand on his face so that he was forced to meet her eyes.

"I'm getting you out of the deal," she repeated. "There's got to be some way. Don't fight me on this."

"Ar, it's a suicide mission!" Dean exclaimed. She paused, lifting her head from the pillow and propping it in her hand.

"Did you just call me Ar?" she asked curiously. The anger and the desperation drained from Dean's face, and he just kind of stared at her with an odd expression lining his intense, beautiful eyes.

"I…guess I did," he replied hesitantly. She was quiet for a beat, and then she shrugged.

"Ok. People don't really nickname me. Bobby calls me Ari, and Elliot and my brother used to call me A." Her voice betrayed the smallest amount of sadness, but he could see that she wasn't let it going to overwhelm her tonight. She sighed, falling back against the pillow and turning away from him so her back was to him. She scooted backwards so that he was spooning her, and she smiled as he kissed the back of her shoulder.

"Sleep with me," she said. "Well, technically you've already _slept_ with me, but this time I mean—"

"Shut up," he lovingly interrupted with a low chuckle. "I'd like to get some sleep before I wake up to find that you've left in the middle of the night."

"Just casually pulling a Dean Winchester," she sleepily mumbled with a smile, enjoying his warmth as she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Ariel rarely got embarrassed about anything in her life, but she found herself sitting in the backseat of the Impala with red cheeks, mussed hair, and half-buttoned clothes as she avoided Sam's eyes. Dean was snickering and laughing hard up in the front seat, and she couldn't help but smile despite the embarrassment of the situation.

"One of you, let me see your knife," Sam said suddenly, looking at Dean from the passenger's seat.

"What for?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"So I can gouge my eyes out," Sam grumbled.

"It was a beautiful, natural act, Sam," Dean replied good-naturedly. He was loving the disgusted look on Sam's face. He knew he should be feeling guilty, especially because Ariel looked somewhat embarrassed, but the whole thing was hilarious. He looked into the rearview to see how Ariel was reacting, and his bright smile only widened even more when he saw her suppressing her own giggles in the backseat.

"It's a part of you I never wanted to see, Dean," Sam intoned. "And, Jesus, I saw Ariel in all kinds of…exposure."

"Right here," she piped up from her spot behind him. "Right here, Sam."

"Oh, God," he groaned. "You're like my sister. Do you have any idea how much I never wanted to see my brother's—"

"I can imagine," she quickly interrupted, attempting to keep a serious face but dissolving into giggles, much to Sam's irritation and dismay. He shook his head and sighed loudly.

"Why me?" he asked aloud as he tilted his head up towards the roof of the Impala. "Why is it always me? What did I do to deserve this?"

"You're such a drama queen," Ariel teased. "Don't act like such a little virgin."

"After seeing you and Dean, I'm going celibate."

Dean laughed and slapped Sam heartily across Sam's thigh.

"Hey, I appreciate you giving me a little quality time with my lady friend," he said. Ariel rolled her eyes at the term "lady friend," but she didn't protest. She leaned against the door behind Sam and propped her feet up across the backseat as she tried to get comfortable.

"Yeah, no problem," Sam answered quietly.

"Really? Well, I gotta say, I was expecting more weary sighs and eye rolls. Something," Dean declared curiously as he shot his brother a hesitant but appreciative look.

"No, not at all. You deserve to have a little fun. Even if I got to see you and Ariel completely in the nude."

"Well, I am in violent agreement with you there. Whatcha think, Ariel?" he glanced again in his rearview and found her flipping him off, but she was grinning at him as she did it. He laughed. "I love when we're on the same page."

"What's Bobby got, Sam?" Ariel asked, changing the subject. Even though she _was_ amused by the situation, she was ready to get off of the topic. Talking about Sam walking in on her and Dean having sex in the motel wasn't something she put at the top of her discussion list. But still—it _had_ been hilarious when Sam had walked in and looked like a deer in headlights.

"Not much. A crop failure and a cicada swarm outside of Lincoln, Nebraska. Ahhh, could be demonic omens—"

"Or could just be a bad crop and a bug problem," Dean interrupted.

"Yeah, but it's our only lead," Sam protested, tossing a glance Dean's way.

"Any freaky deaths?" Ariel asked.

"Nothing Bobby could find—not yet, anyway," Sam answered, twisting around to look at her. She met his hazel eyes, and she shrugged lightly in response.

"It's weird, man. I mean, the night the Devil's Gate opened, all these weirdo storm clouds were sighted over how many cities?" Dean questioned.

"Seventeen," Ariel piped up for Sam.

"Seventeen. You'd think it would be 'Apocalypse Now,' but it's been five days and bubkis," he replied. "What are the demons waiting for?"

"Beats me." Sam shrugged.

"It's driving me crazy. I tell you, if it's gonna be war, I wish it would just start already," Dean said irritably, tapping his hand against the steering wheel as he drove down the road.

"I don't know, man," Sam said cautiously. "Be careful what you wish for."

"Ain't that the fucking truth," Ariel sighed in agreement.

"What do you think? You think it's demons?" Dean asked her. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Fuck if I know. With all the spooky shit going on these days and all the spooky shit we don't even know about that exists in the world, it could be anything. Then again, with the state of the world and the deteriorating condition of our ozone layer, it could also very well just be nature being a douche," she cheerfully replied. Dean smirked.

"Ok, Al Gore," he said. Ariel frowned as she reclined, her legs stretched out in front of her and her blue eyes on the ceiling of the Impala.

"You know," she said thoughtfully. "I haven't heard anything on the Furies recently. With the Gates of Hell opening, I thought they would've been hard on my ass—_someone's_ ass, at least, and there've been no omens at all from them."

"What omens usually foretell the Furies?" Sam asked, turning to look at her in the backseat again.

"Signs that can get confused with demons. You know, the usual—lightning storms, power outages, water shortages, anything and everything but on a much more severe scale. The Furies are like 15 demons all together at once," she said matter of factly.

"Why'd they target your family?" Sam asked suddenly. He ignored the angry warning look that Dean gave him, keeping his hazel eyes on Ariel. She looked at him and frowned in thought, her mind taking her somewhere else.

"Truth be told, I really don't know. Like I've told you guys, I know he was involved with something dangerous, but I don't know what. It had to have been bad, though. Like, _really_ bad. The Furies only punish the worst of the worst, and if they targeted not only my dad but my entire family? He had to have been doing something terrible," she answered. "To hell with him. Well, actually, that's probably where he is."

Dean exchanged a look with Sam. Both of the brothers were unsure if she were making a twisted joke, so they stayed silent, letting it slip past both of them. The only times Ariel really seemed to get emotional was when she talked about Elliot or her brother. Her dad she'd mentioned several times before in a nonchalant manner, and Dean knew enough about Dad problems to know that she'd probably had a shit ton by the time she was 12. But he didn't ask. It wasn't his place, and he knew if she wanted to talk about it, she would.

* * *

Dean drove all through the night. Several times he considered asking Sam to drive, but he fought through the exhaustion, stopping once at a diner to grab some shitty coffee to perk him back up. He was used to doing the driving, and he didn't mind it; in fact, he preferred to be the one behind the wheel of the Impala. It wasn't that he didn't trust Sam to drive the car, but the Impala was one of the few things that he really felt some ownership over, and it just felt like his.

"Here we go," he announced as he pulled up to a farmhouse. Ariel was in the passenger's seat, having stolen Sam's spot after he'd needed to make a pit stop at a McDonald's about seven hours back. She finished the last few bites of her salad, ignoring the judgmental looks Dean was giving her.

"I can feel you judging me," she said, calling him out on it. "It's healthy. It's green. It's good for you."

"Just because 'green' and 'good for you' both start with g's doesn't mean that they're supposed to go together," Dean replied. "What you need, Miss Easton, is a bacon burger."

"Well, I can't argue with that," she admitted as she closed the Styrofoam lid of the to-go box, trapping the plastic fork inside. She opened the car door and stepped out of the car. Sam begrudgingly got out of the backseat, his long legs aching with having been cramped up for such an uncomfortable amount of time.

"I'm getting you back. That's a promise," he said to Ariel, meriting a cheeky grin from her. Suddenly, his face turned serious, and he frowned as he turned a careful ear to the noise around him. "Hear those cicadas?"

"That can't be a good sign," Dean agreed as he shut the door behind him.

"No, no, it can't."

Dean watched Ariel cross eagerly over to Bobby, talking a mile a minute as she caught up to him. Bobby showed an almost fatherly affection towards the hunter, and that didn't go unnoticed by Dean. It wasn't exactly like Bobby to be…well, fatherly. Of course, Bobby _was_ fatherly towards him and Sam, but he was different with Ariel, and Dean knew that it was because the hunter had raised the girl.

"So, we're eating bacon cheeseburgers for breakfast, are we?" Bobby asked by way of greeting. Dean rubbed his chin with his hand and stared nonchalantly back at the man.

"Well, I sold my soul. Got a year to live. I ain't sweating the cholesterol," he smartly quipped in return. Ariel's navy blue eyes rested on Bobby's face, ignoring what Dean had just said, and she changed the subject.

"So, Bobby, what do you think? We got a biblical plague here or what?" she asked casually.

"Well, let's find out. Looks like the swarm's ground zero," the hunter returned, and he scanned the sky briefly with his brown eyes, looking as if he were waiting for the nasty bugs to come sweeping down out of nowhere. They walked up to the door, and Dean took the initiative to bang on the door.

"Candygram!" he shouted.

"Seriously? That's the best you can come up with?" Ariel intoned. He looked at her and shrugged.

"You never know," he replied with a wink. He sighed and looked at the door. Sam listened carefully, his ears pricked just in case he heard something, but nothing seemed to be happening. He glanced over at his older brother, and they exchanged one of their looks.

"Plan B," Dean said as he dug in his pocket and pulled out a lock pick. He bent over to fiddle with the lock, and within a few, very brief seconds, the lock yielded, and the door swung open. Ariel didn't have to take a step forward from her spot to start gagging on the smell that punched her across the face.

"Ah, fuck," she hissed, covering her nose with her hand, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

"That's awful," Sam groaned. Dean was coughing and covering his nose with his own hand, his eyebrows drawn together in a look of revulsion.

"That so can't be a good sign," Dean said firmly. They began to move throughout the house. Ariel and Bobby split up one way, Dean and Sam the other. Ariel had her gun drawn in her hand, breathing through her mouth so that she wouldn't have to smell the horrible stench that could only be associated with death.

Room by room, they picked through the house, still not seeming to find any answers as to what they were looking for. She glanced at Bobby, and he lifted his eyebrows at her, as if to say that he didn't know what the fuck was going on, either. She conceded with a shrug. They moved their way along, and then they burst into a room where Sam and Dean were. Instantly, the smell hit their noses stronger, and Ariel gagged, knowing that they'd found dead bodies.

"Ah, shit, shit, shit," she spat as she covered her nose with her hand again.

"Stop being a wimp, Ari," Bobby told her. She glared at him but looked at the Winchesters with questions all over her face, though the looks on theirs told her that they were just as confused as she was.

"Bobby, what the hell happened here?" Sam asked in confusion.

"I don't know," Bobby answered with a bewildered shrug.

"Check for sulfur," Ariel choked out from beneath her hand. Dean snapped his fingers and pointed to her in agreement. He and Bobby crossed to the windowsills while Sam took a braver role, approaching the dead bodies to examine them up close. Ariel walked along the walls, checking the floorboard and scanning over anything that came into her line of view.

A creak from out in the hall made everyone still. She whipped her head over her shoulder towards the sound, and she froze. Her muscles were tight with anticipation, and she lifted her gun, preparing herself for anything out there. She looked at Dean, and he looked back at her, nodding at her and whistling to get the others' attention. He gestured that he was going to go take care of it. Sam, Ariel, and Bobby moved to cover him.

Dean eased the door open and peeked outside. He didn't see anything, and that meant he'd have to step out even farther. Cautiously, he opened the door and stepped into the open, vulnerable air. He looked around him, his skin tingling with the sensation of being watched. He stepped back, and that was when he was attacked. It happened so quickly that he didn't have time to orient himself and prepare a defense, but Bobby's voice stopped his attacker.

"Isaac? Tamera?" Bobby asked in surprise. Dean saw Bobby walking towards the two people in front of him. Now that he wasn't being attacked he could see that he'd been jumped by a man and a woman who were now smiling happily at seeing Bobby.

"Bobby!" the woman—Tamera—happily exclaimed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same!" Bobby declared with a chuckle.

"Heya, Bobby!" Isaac chimed in, sticking his hand out to shake Bobby's. "Where's that beautiful girl of yours?"

"I know that's not who I think it is," Ariel said as she exited her hiding place. A smile split across her face as she saw the two hunters, and she went and warmly hugged them both.

"There she is! I swear—you weren't this grown looking last time we saw you," Tamera said with a wink. "I bet you're already chasing those boys off you and giving them hell."

"Hello," Dean interrupted, lifting his arm and waving it to distract the happy reunion. "Bleeding here."

Ariel looked down at him and then back up at Tamera and Isaac, gesturing towards Dean as she spoke, "I can't seem to shake this one."

"You're hilarious," Dean grumbled, but he accepted her arm as she leaned down and helped him back to his feet. She squinted her eyes and inspected the bleeding wound on his head.

"You're not bleeding that badly," she replied. "Stop being a wimp."

"Says the girl who nearly threw up two minutes ago," Dean retorted. She snorted.

"Hey, the smell of dead bodies is disgusting. I have a sensitive nose." She turned back to face Tamera and Isaac, slipping an arm around Dean's waist. "Tamera, Isaac, this is Dean Winchester, the boy who can't seem to disappear."

"Man. I'm a man," Dean corrected lamely.

"Winchester," Isaac said curiously. "You're John's son?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sam and me both," Dean replied, nodding towards his brother who was just now emerging from the house.

"Sam Winchester," the long-haired brother said as he shook hands and was introduced to both Isaac and Tamera.

"Come on back to our place. We can figure out our next plan of action from there," Tamera said, warmly smiling at everyone. Ariel grinned back at her, looking up at Dean as they walked back down to the cars.

"How's the bleeding?" she asked.

"I'm not positive, but I'm at least 51% sure that I'm gonna make it," Dean answered dramatically. She lightly punched him in the ribs with her free hand, her arm still around his waist, his still draped over her shoulders.

"Drama queen."

"Hush before I kiss you."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" she asked with a wink. He leaned down and gave her a quick peck before they reached the Impala.

"I'd answer you, but I think you need to wrestle Sammy for shotgun," he responded. Her eyes widened, and she made a run for the front seat just as Sam seemed to realize what she was doing and beat her there. Dean couldn't help the smile that overcame him as he felt how right things were. At least for now.


	14. Sins

**Shoutouts to roxylove7 and tigereyekum for reviewing!**

**Sorry this is so long. I was ready to get off this episode to get to the good action, so I skipped around a lot, and I squeezed it all into one chapter. On to the next one =)**

**Continue telling me what you think! I value each and every one of you =)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 14

"Yeah, ok. Thank you so much for all your help. Goodbye."

Ariel hung the phone up and walked into the living room where everyone else was. Tamera and Isaac were busy showing Dean and Sam some piece of wood, and from another glance, Ariel was able to tell that it was the Palo Santo, one of the couple's most prized weapons. She'd never been in Isaac and Tamera's house before since they usually showed up at Bobby's for help, but it looked how a typical hunter's house should. It hadn't escaped her notice that there were all kinds of demon warding and different charms and amulets throughout the house. Dean glanced up as she walked in the room, and his mouth softened as he looked at her.

"That was the coroner's tech," she announced to the group.

"And?" Sam pressed.

"Get this—that whole family. Cause of death? Dehydration and starvation. There's no signs of restraint, no violence, and no struggle. They just sat down and never got up," she replied as she folded her arms across her chest. Bobby frowned at the information.

"But there was a fully stocked kitchen yards away," he protested. Ariel shrugged to show that she was at a loss for an explanation.

"Right, what is this, a demon attack?" Sam asked, his pitch high in confusion.

"If it is, it's not like anything I've ever seen before," Bobby answered.

"Yeah, I'm backing you guys on this. I've dealt with a shit load of demons since I started hunting, and this doesn't look like demons at all." Ariel brushed a hand through her hair and walked closer to Dean. She stood close enough so that he could reach out and touch her, giving him the opportunity to, and he took her up on it. He caught the smile across her face as he stretched his arm out across her shoulders.

"Well, what now? What should we do?" he asked.

"Uh, 'we're' not going to do anything," Isaac spoke up from across the room. Ariel's eyes darted over to him, her shock showing through the dark blue of them. She couldn't say that she knew Isaac and Tamera incredibly well, but she could say that she thought she knew them well enough to know that they'd usually be in on this kind of thing.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked cautiously.

"You guys seem nice enough, and we've known Bobby and Ariel for years, but this ain't _Scooby Doo_, and we don't play well with others." Isaac responded bluntly. His gaze turned to Ariel. "Actually, we thought you'd understand that since that's been your attitude for the past few years, Ariel. I'm surprised you've joined up with this crew."

"I know I've said that I'm a lone wolf, but this is different," she tersely answered, a warning flashing through her eyes towards the older man. Dean felt her tense beneath his arm, her muscles tight from her forcing herself not to snap at Isaac. He glanced over at his brother and saw him looking confused, as if he couldn't believe that someone wouldn't want to work with them. _Ah, Sammy. So pure_, he thought with an inward grin to himself.

"Well, I think we'd cover a lot more ground if we worked together," his brother answered in a tight tone that mirrored Ariel's. Dean raised his eyebrows slightly. _Well, well, Sammy. It's about time you got mad_.

"No offense, but we're not teaming up with the damn fools who let the Devil's Gate get opened in the first place," Isaac retorted.

"No offense?" Dean repeated, his face changing from placid to heated.

"I'm sorry, but you think you could've done any better?" Ariel suddenly snapped. "We did the best that we could in that situation, and I don't think you're in any place to judge."

"Isaac, like you've never made a mistake?" Tamera interjected. Her dark eyes shot over pleadingly to Ariel, silently begging her to help bring the tension down. Ariel liked Tamera a lot; the woman had always been kind and just as sweet as she could be to her. Really, Isaac had always been wonderful, too, and she was somewhat wounded to see him so angry with all of them. With her.

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Locked my keys in the car, turned my laundry pink. Never brought on the end of the world, though." Isaac's tone was casual, as though he were discussing anything but what he was actually saying. "Ariel, I would've thought you were smarter than to team up with these guys. Come on, you wouldn't work with anyone on a case but Elliot, and as soon as he died, that meant you were a solo act. I know you've got sense in that brain of yours. Or do you?"

Dean felt Ariel begin to move, and he grabbed her shoulders as his flaming green eyes turned to sear Isaac through with anger. He let out a snort and a little smirk and shook his head.

"Alright, that's enough," he said warningly.

"Guys, this isn't helping." Sam's voice distracted Dean, and he turned towards his brother. "Dean—"

"Look, there are a couple hundred more demons out there now. We don't know where they are, when they'll strike. There ain't enough hunters in the world to handle something like this. You brought war down on us—on _all_ of us." Isaac's tone was full of blame, harshly falling over the group as thick as a blanket. Ariel bit her tongue as she made eye contact again with Tamera. Drawing a breath, she calmed herself and released it, giving the woman a slight nod to show that she wasn't going to press anything.

"Ok—that's quite enough mixture of testerone and estrogen for now," Tamera jumped in, taking Ariel's cue. Without another word, she swept Isaac out of the room, leaving the stunned group behind them. As soon as they were out of earshot, Ariel went nuts.

"Can you fucking believe that?" she hissed. "After all we've done for them, and Isaac's fucking blaming the Devil's Gate on us. And you know what, we're a _thousand_ times better than them. We're better hunters by far. All of us."

"Well, Isaac's always been a bit of a hothead," Bobby grumbled.

"A dick is more like it," Dean pointed out. Bobby gave a shrug and half-nod in agreement.

"He's usually nicer than this. I guess it's just a shock that the Devil's Gate opened," he replied.

"It's not like we're trying to avoid responsibility because we're going to get all of those demons, and we're gonna send them straight back to the pit. Jesus, it just makes me really fucking angry." Ariel released a frustrated sigh and ran her hand through her hair as she tried to calm down. "At least Tamera's being nice. Even if she blames us for opening the fucking Gate, she's being nice about it."

"And they're both giving us a place to stay for the night. That's good," Sam piped up.

"Honestly, at this point I'd rather stay elsewhere." Dean was answered with a pointed look from his brother. "What, you wanna stay here with two people who hate our guts?"

"I want to stay in an actual house for once," Sam corrected. "And speaking of, I'm calling the armchair."

"I'll take the other one," Bobby said begrudgingly. Dean frowned.

"Why are you giving us the couch?" he asked. Bobby scoffed and rolled his eyes as though the answer were obvious.

"Because there's an 'us' in the equation, jackass," he replied. "Since you two have gotten all coupley and gross with each other—"

"Gross?" Ariel interrupted with an amused grin.

"Yeah. Gross. Don't think I don't know where you two sleep, and it ain't in separate rooms." Bobby stalked over to the armchair he'd claimed as his as Ariel and Dean snickered and took the couch. When he saw the two of them sitting down with each other, he grimaced and stood up. "On second thought, I'm gonna go brush my teeth now and hope that I don't have to see the two of you getting all cuddly."

"And I don't want to see any more of Dean's pen—"

"Ok!" Dean interrupted. He smirked at Sam and cleared his throat. "No nudity. Guaranteed."

* * *

Dean was completely out of his head. He didn't know who he was or what had happened to him. He didn't feel at all like himself. And it was all because of Ariel.

He sat in the passenger's seat of Bobby's car, restlessly fidgeting and sighing and glancing at his phone to check the time and to also see if Ariel had called or texted him. He reached back as far as he could in his mind, trying to see when the last time he'd been so hung up on a girl was, and he couldn't find anything. He hadn't ever thought about a girl so much that he'd check his phone to see if she'd texted or called.

In all fairness, though, Ariel was a hunter, and by splitting up from him to go head off with Sam, she could be injured or anything for all he knew. In the back of his mind, he knew that it took a lot to bring Ariel down, as evidenced by the past few cases he'd worked with her, but still. She was hunting, and she wasn't with him, and that could mean anything in regards to her safety, especially with those Furies after her.

Really, he had to admit that this relationship with Ariel wasn't something that was considered normal for him; normal for Dean Winchester was sex on the first night and then never seeing the girl again. However, he'd known Ariel for a long—by Winchester standards—time before he'd slept with her, and he actually _wanted_ to be around her. He _enjoyed_ being with her, even if she did bug the hell out of him and drive him a wall all at the same time.

"What time is it?" Bobby asked. Eager for an excuse to check his watch again, Dean didn't argue or make a snide comeback.

"Seven past midnight," he answered.

"You sure this is the right place?"

"No. But I spent all day canvassing this stupid guy's town with this guy's stupid mug, and, supposedly, he drinks at this…stupid bar." He picked up the piece of paper with the picture of the guy on it. Apparently, some dude had walked up to a lady in a shoe store and said something to her, and then she'd gone crazy, bashing another woman's head into a windshield until she was dead. There was something fishy going on in town, and, of course, the Winchesters + Singer and Easton were going to figure out what it was.

"Boy, how much has Ariel told you about Elliot?" Bobby asked suddenly. Dean drew his eyebrows together in a frown, and he looked at the hunter beside him with a perplexed expression on his sharp features.

"Not much. I know he was the best friend of her brother growing up, and he was killed by the Furies when they used him to get to her. Why?" he asked. Bobby squinted his eyes as he stared out the windshield of the car, and then he looked over at Dean.

"Did she tell you how the Furies killed that boy?" he asked. Dean shook his head. Bobby sighed and looked back out the windshield, his eyes a thousand miles away as he saw a different scene that Dean knew he didn't want to revisit. "They put him on a Breaking Wheel. I saw it in person."

"What? What's that?" Dean asked. He could tell by the sick look in Bobby's eyes that it wasn't pleasant.

"They tied him to a wheel and broke all his limbs before they slowly drained his blood."

"Did Ariel…" Dean's voice trailed off before he could finish asking if she'd seen. But Bobby knew. He lifted his head and met Dean's eyes, nodding once slowly. Dean frowned as another question crossed his mind. "If the Furies want to kill her so badly, why'd they make her watch them torture Elliot? Why didn't they just kill her on the spot once they had her?"

Bobby scoffed, "The Furies are nasty bitches. Their job is to punish someone for something they've done. Whatever Ariel's daddy was involved in must've been horrible for the Furies to go after him and his entire family. And since Ariel got away from them the first time, they're out to punish her twice as much. They enjoy toying with her is all. I think they know she doesn't value her own life all that much, so the way to punish her is by punishing the people she loves."

Dean paused.

"Bobby, is this some kind of warning?" he asked. Bobby looked aghast.

"The fuck? No. I ain't warning you. I'm trying…I'm trying to _explain_ to you a bit more about her. Honestly, I ain't seen her so…weird about a guy before, and—I don't know, but no. No, I ain't warning you about anything," he huffed.

Suddenly, loud smacks on the windows made both Dean and Bobby jump about 10 feet high. Dean looked out his window and was horrified to see Sam standing there with that infernal snicker on his face.

"Dammit, Ariel!" Bobby shouted from the driver's side. The backseat doors opened, and in slid—in perfect tandem—Ariel and Sam with wide grins on their faces.

"That's not funny!" Dean exclaimed as he glowered at the two of them. He then watched in continued horror as Sam and Ariel high-fived each other. "What is this? Brother-sister bonding time?"

"No, it's called pulling a damn good prank," Sam shot back with a grin. "You should've seen your face."

"Yours, too, Bobby. It was classic," Ariel sang as she poked the older hunter's shoulder. He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"You know better than to scare a hunter. How many times have I nearly shot you through with a bullet because of your stupid pranks?" Bobby muttered, but he didn't even sound that angry.

"Anyway, John Doe's name is Walter Rosen. He's from Oak Park, just west of Chicago. Went missing about a week ago," Ariel replied as she leaned back against the door in the backseat and propped her feet up on the back of the front seat, her feet landing just near Dean's ear.

"Real cute, Ariel. Wait—a week ago. Was that the night the Devil's Gate opened?" Dean asked and pushed Ariel's feet to the side so he could more clearly see her face. She nodded along with Sam. "So you think he's possessed?"

"Well, it's a good bet. So, what, he just walks up to someone, touches them, and they go stark raving psycho?" Sam asked, his mood sobering up as he began to reorient himself with job mode. Even Ariel sat up straighter to take an active part in the brainstorming of what the fuck could be going on.

"Those demons that got out at the gate—they're gonna do all kinds of things we haven't seen," Bobby warned. Ariel snorted.

"You mean the demons we _let out_," she stressed. "Seriously, fuck Isaac."

"Guys," Dean said suddenly, his eyes focused on something that was happening in front of them. Instantly, everyone's attention snapped to what he was looking at. It was their mystery man.

"Yahtzee," Ariel muttered, quoting Dean and earning an appreciative, smug look from the devil himself.

"Alright. Showtime," he quipped. He began to move to get out of the car, his body ready to get into the zone.

"Wait a minute," Bobby warned.

"What?" Dean asked impatiently.

"What'd I just say? We don't know what to expect out of this guy. We should tail him till we know for sure."

"Oh, so he kills someone, and we just sit here with our junk in our hands?" Dean's impatient tone rose higher, and he was beginning to sound annoyed. Ariel cleared her throat from the backseat.

"Technically, I don't have junk," she said. Dean shot her a look, and she just shrugged while Sam struggled to keep his snickers quiet.

"Shut up, smartass," Bobby retorted as he turned back to Dean. "We're no good dead! And we're not gonna make a move until we know what the score is."

"Then let _me_ go," Ariel suggested blandly. "Demons can't kill me. We all know this—it's like preaching to the choir by now. They can't kill me, so just let me go on in."

"Ari, are you stupid? They could deliver you to the Furies all boxed and gift-wrapped for all we know," Bobby snapped.

"Hey, it was just a suggestion."

"Hey, Bobby? I don't think either of those is an option," Sam piped up casually.

"Why not?" Bobby demanded. Sam gestured with his head towards something else happening in front of them. Ariel followed the trail of his hazel eyes and found Isaac and Tamera making their way into the bar. She smacked the back of the seat in front of her.

"Shit," she hissed. "They're gonna get themselves killed."

"See why it's a good thing we didn't send you in there?" Dean asked with lifted eyebrows as he gave her a "told you so" look. She narrowed her eyes at him, though she wasn't all that mad or annoyed with him.

"I'm a better hunter. They're fucking stupid," she replied in a sweet voice. "Well, boys, shall we send in the cavalry?"

* * *

A stream of cuss words released from Dean's throat as he and Bobby failed to break down the door to the bar. The fact that it was locked meant something that Dean didn't want to think about; just like Bobby had said: these demons were capable of anything, and a thousand things could be happening behind that door that he couldn't prevent.

Suddenly, bright flashing lights from behind him caught his eye, and he put a hand on Bobby's shoulder to stop him. Ariel was in the driver's seat of Bobby's car, and she was gesturing to them to come back. Dean sprinted back to the car, Bobby hot on his heels as he neared behind.

"What?" Dean asked as he leaned down to the window.

"Get in the car," she ordered, her blue eyes showing that she wasn't fucking around. "We're gonna go for a little spin."

"In _my_ car?" Bobby snapped. She gave him a bored look.

"Who else's car?" she asked. "Now get the fuck in. Both of you. Once we crash through, I'm gonna hop out and help you guys while Sam moves up here to the driver's seat. We'll get Tamera and Isaac, and then we're busting the fuck out. Ok?"

"It's crazy enough that I'm down with it," Dean remarked almost joyously as he walked around to the passenger's side. Bobby shot him a glare.

"You better crawl in the backseat with your brother because I'm riding shotgun in my own car," he threatened. Dean grinned at him but moved to the back with no complaint. As Ariel moved the car into drive while Bobby slid into the passenger's seat, he leaned forward so that his mouth was by Ariel's ear.

"Ready when you are," he challenged. And then her foot was on the pedal, pressing down on the gas so hard that Dean was sure the collision would kill them instead of breaking through the side of the bar. He braced himself, squeezing his eyes shut and holding his arm over his head as they shot through the wall of the bar.

In a flash, he, Bobby, and Ariel were out of the car. Wildly slashing, they flung holy water all around them. Screams and sizzling sounds emitted from the demons as the water made contact with its desired victims. Ariel's eyes landed on Tamera, and she inwardly heaved a sigh of relief at seeing the woman unharmed. She might have disliked Isaac, but she still liked Tamera. She reached her arm out and grabbed Tamera, pulling her towards the car. It was as she was dragging Tamera back to the car that she realized the woman was screaming something. At first, Ariel couldn't make out a damn word she was saying. But then her eyes followed where Tamera's were looking, and she saw Isaac dead on the floor. With a hard gulp, she gripped Tamera's arm more firmly and yanked her.

"Come on, we gotta go! He's dead! Get in the car!" she shouted. Tamera was still struggling and screaming, and Ariel's body filled with dread as she realized what she was going to have to do in order to make the taller woman come with her. She pulled her arm back as far as it would go, and then she punched Tamera hard enough to stun her but not to knock her out. Guilt crossed over Ariel's face as she shoved Tamera into the car. She saw Sam still in the driver's seat, and Bobby was in the passenger's seat, but there was no Dean. Panicked, she looked back out and saw him still fighting.

"Dean, come on!" she shouted. Then she lost sight of him as he moved behind the car. She could hear the hard smack of skin on skin, and she didn't know if it was Dean doing the punching or receiving the punching. She swallowed hard as she tried to see where he was, but Tamera was coming back to her senses, and she was getting hysterical. Ariel tried to calm Tamera, gently rubbing her arms and telling her she was ok when Dean suddenly jumped in the car and landed awkwardly on Bobby.

"Go! Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go!" he shouted, and Sam pressed his foot to the pedal as they reversed and got out of there.

"Goddammit, Dean!" Bobby shouted from underneath Dean as Dean tried to scramble around to get in a seat. "I'm not a goddamn seat! Get in the back. _Get in the back_."

Dean tumbled into the backseat, his feet nearly kicking Ariel as he landed in between her and Tamera. Tamera was breathing hysterically and sobbing as Sam drove. His eyes filled with pain and pity as he saw the strong woman he'd only seen earlier that day break down next to him. She turned away from him, hiding her face in her hands as she faced the windows and wailed. Unable to face her pain, Dean turned towards Ariel.

"Ar," he greeted quietly, and he pulled her into a hug. He knew that now probably wasn't the time to do it—not when Tamera had just lost her husband, and he'd thrown a demon in the trunk, but he couldn't help himself. Seeing Tamera fall apart over the loss of her husband was something that was rubbing Dean in too wrong of a way for him to ignore with Ariel sitting so close to him. He expected her to make some snarky remark and to tease him, but she didn't. Instead, he felt her grab his shirt in her fists and bury her head in his chest.

Ariel was desperate for every inch of him. She could still her Tamera's despairing cries as Dean's arms tried to protect her from the pain emanating towards them, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she silently begged that the woman would stop. She didn't need a reminder of what she, herself, would be facing in just a year when Dean would be taken away from her.

* * *

They were barely inside the house before Tamera went from despairing to furious.

"We're going back," she said, her voice low, threatening anyone to challenge her as soon as the demon had been tied up under a Devil's Trap. Bobby glanced at Ariel, the dread filling his eyes at what he was about to deny Tamera.

"We can't," he said simply.

"What the fuck do you mean we can't?" Tamera exploded. "We're going back, and we're going back this very instant!"

"Tamera, it's not safe," Ariel spoke up, hesitant to say anything that would inflict the woman's wrath on her. Tamera whirled around to spit a retort back at her, but she was stopped before she even started.

"I say we're not going," Bobby repeated more firmly.

"—And I say we're going back—now!" Tamera demanded.

"Just hold on a second!" Sam interjected angrily.

"I left my husband bloody on the floor!" Tamera shouted, the despair and anguish coming back through her voice as she pleaded. Ariel looked away from her, not wanting to see her pain. It was hitting too close to home for her. She glanced up and looked at Dean. His eyes met hers, and he seemed to be thinking about the same thing from the way that his lips pressed into a thin, straight line as he tried to block out the scene in front of him.

"Ok, I understand that, but we can't go back." Sam's tone was more patient as he tried a different approach to make her understand why they couldn't return to the bar that they'd literally just left.

"Fine. Then you stay. But I'm heading back to that bar," Tamera snapped, teary as she glared at the younger Winchester.

"I'll go with her," Dean said. He could feel the surprise from Ariel as she looked at him. He gingerly looked up and towards Tamera and Sam. Annoyance flickered across his younger brother's face.

"It's suicide, Dean!" Sam cried.

"So what? I'm dead already!" Dean protested. Ariel sharply inhaled, and she stepped forward.

"I'll go," she said. "Dean, you can stay here. The demons won't touch me."

"How you gonna kill 'em?" Sam demanded angrily, his hazel eyes burning into her skin. "Can't shoot 'em. Can't stab 'em all by yourself. They're not just gonna wait in line to get exorcised!"

"I don't care!" Tamera screamed, the hysteria rising back in her voice. Ariel winced at it, and she struggled to keep the urge to slap the woman at bay. Yes, Ariel was in touch with her emotions, but she couldn't stand hysteria, and Tamera was reaching hysteria.

"We don't even know how many of them there are!" Sam exclaimed back in frustration, advancing towards Tamera with fire in his eyes.

"Yeah, we do," Bobby said. He strode into the room with a book in his hands, his eyes trained on the paper. Ariel exchanged a glance with Dean, curiosity written on both of their faces. "There's seven. Do you have any idea who we're up against?"

The deadly serious tone of Bobby's voice made Ariel nervous; the look in his eyes was intense, and she knew that their suspicions about these demons had been correct. The demons they were dealing with weren't ordinary demons. These demons had to be some scary ass motherfuckers because Bobby looked completely out of his mind.

"No. Who?" Dean asked, deciding to be the one to jump in and take the bait.

"The Seven Deadly Sins, live and in the flesh!" Bobby exclaimed. Silence filled the room as everyone processed what Bobby had just revealed to them. Ariel had to admit that she hadn't seen that coming; she thought herself pretty up to date on lore and legends and monsters since, well, her foster dad was Bobby Singer, the king of all that knowledge junk, but she never, ever could've predicted this one.

"'What's in the box?!'" Dean suddenly crowed. She turned to him, staring at him with eyes that showed no recognition of what he'd just quoted. "Brad Pitt? _Se7en_? No?" He was answered by Bobby tossing him a book. "What's this?"

"_Binsfeld's Classification of Demons_. In 1589, Binsfeld ID'd the seven sins – not just as human vices but as actual devils," Bobby replied.

"The family," Ariel said as she snapped her fingers. "They were touched by Sloth. And the shopper…"

"That's Envy's doing: the customer we got in the next room. I couldn't suss it out at first, until Isaac. He was touched with an awful Gluttony," he said, shooting a remorseful glance Tamera's way.

"I don't give a rat's ass if they're the Three Stooges or the Four Tops! I'm gonna slaughter every last one of them!" Tamera shrieked. Bobby's eyes flashed with anger as he saw that he wasn't getting through her stubbornness. Ariel knew that the one thing Bobby couldn't stand was when someone was purposely reckless because he or she was being selfish, and that was what Tamera was doing. She was being stubborn, and she was being selfish because she couldn't think of anything but her pain.

"We already did it your way. You burst in there half-cocked, and look what happened! These demons haven't been topside in a half a millennium! We're talking medieval, Dark Ages! We've never faced anything close to this! So we are gonna take a breath and figure out what our next move is!" Bobby shouted as he lost his last bit of cool. He breathed, slowing his heart rate down, and his voice became soft. "I am sorry for your loss."

Tamera looked around, blinking back tears as she seemed to look right through everyone around her, and she hurried out of the room without looking back.

* * *

When Ariel caught Bobby's eye, and he gestured for her to go into the other room with him, she knew that something wasn't right. She glanced over at Sam and Dean and saw them moving into the other room. Somewhat reluctant to leave Tamera alone, she sent a lingering glance over her shoulder as she followed the Winchesters and Bobby for their impromptu meeting.

"I don't think we're gonna have to worry about hunting them," Bobby said as soon as they were out of earshot.

"What does that mean?" Sam's voice was full of caution as his hazel eyes appraised Bobby with confusion.

"I think maybe this joker's right. They're gonna be hunting us. And they're not gonna quit easy," Bobby replied.

"You guys, why don't you take Tamera and head for the hills? I'll stay back, slow them down, buy you a little time," Dean casually interjected. Ariel shot him a death glare.

"Fuck no!" she exclaimed.

"You're insane, Dean. Just forget about it, ok?" Sam said with a sigh.

"There's _six _of them, guys. We're outmanned, we're outgunned. We'll be dead by dawn," Dean argued adamantly. Ariel huffed a sigh of annoyance and crossed her arms as she stared him down.

"And you think that you fighting them alone would give you a better chance?" she asked.

"What? No," Dean scoffed. "It just doesn't make sense for all of us to get killed when one of us will get killed. My time's coming up anyway. Might as well jumpstart it."

"Enough with that bullshit, ok?" Ariel furiously demanded. "You told me you have a year, and you're gonna get a fucking year if it's the last thing I do. You _promised_ me, Dean."

Her words were loaded with a thousand other meanings, and he knew that he was stuck. He looked away from her, giving in to what she was saying.

"There's no place to run that they won't find us," Bobby said softly to ease the tension.

"Look, if we're going down, we're going down together, alright?" Sam said firmly. Dean finally looked up and met Ariel's fiery eyes, eyes that could always pierce him through and find the things he kept locked away for good reason.

"Well, let's not make it easy for them," he replied.

* * *

Dean sat on the floor loading shotguns with salt beside Ariel. She was close to him, her short blonde hair falling into her face so that it was hidden from him. He paused, watching her work. She knew her way around guns, and she was working quickly and expertly, her nimble fingers loading mindlessly. She tucked her hair back behind her ear, and Dean could see her face processing 90 different emotions all at the same time as she worked.

"I can feel you staring," she said suddenly without glancing at him. Dean cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.

"Jesus, I feel like I was caught with my hand in the cookie jar," he replied with a sheepish grin. She peeped up at him and smiled a little bit. He could tell that she was still a bit pissed with him from earlier for having volunteered to stay behind, but the anger was slowly melting off of her, leaving behind the Ariel that he knew and enjoyed.

"Watch yourself," she said in a slightly playful tone that made Dean smile. Three swift movements, and she was done with the shotgun in her hands. She set it down next to her and leaned back on her hands and stretched her legs out in front of her.

"Think we're gonna die tonight?" Dean asked. She took a moment to think, but then she carefully shook her head, her blonde hair brushing against her jawline with the movement.

"I obviously won't be killed by the demons," she lightly responded, "but I don't think that we're gonna die. We've proofed this place pretty well, and we're all prepared. I mean, yeah, we don't know what these demons can do, but I think…I _hope_ we'll come out of it alive."

At her words, Dean glanced over at Sam and found his younger brother looking back at him. The lights began to flicker, and the radio turned on. An old song was playing that neither Dean nor Ariel recognized, but with a surge of electricity like that, that could only mean that the demons were there, and they were powerful. He exchanged another look with Ariel, watching her jump to her feet, shotgun in hand, and eyes blazing.

"Here we go," Dean quipped, cocking his shotgun.

* * *

Ariel knew she was fucked. She backed into the room as Pride cracked the Devil's Trap on the ceiling. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest that she was sure the demons could hear it, too. She had no idea where Sam, Bobby, and Dean were; they'd all split up to take on the demons, and she'd found herself upstairs, prepared and confident. Until Pride had cracked the ceiling, that is.

"You…are Ariel Easton," Pride smoothly intoned as he advanced towards her. "Yes, I've heard of you. Who hasn't, what with your friends telling us we can't kill you. You know, that really puts a damper on what we do. Do you have any idea how much we'd love to sink our teeth into you? Ariel Easton, daughter of Aaron Easton. Looking at you now, I don't believe the hype. You think I'd be impressed by pathetic, scrawny ass? I have my pride, after all. And now you're all by yourself. No one around. Looks like I'm dragging you to your three buddies myself."

Before Ariel could move, the demon was on her, and she was on her back. Pride's hands closed around her throat, squeezing the air from her. She flailed in vain to get free, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to; the man that the demon was possessing was much more powerful than she was, and the demon's super strength on top of that made it even more difficult to get free.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement and heard shouts. Desperately, she gasped for breath and clawed at the demon's hands around her neck. She was beginning to see fuzzy stars, and a dark grey was starting to cloud her vision. Just as she thought that she was actually dying, the demon was pulled off of her. Ariel struggled to reorient herself, and she dragged herself to her feet, coughing and spitting. The demon was coming back towards her, and she gathered all the strength she could muster. Pulling her arm back, she released the punch and watched her hand collide with the demon's face, sending it back onto a knife.

Ariel froze as she realized that the demons flanking Pride were dead, and there was a girl with long blonde hair sticking a knife through Pride's throat. She gaped at the woman, unsure whether to thank her or whether to jump her next. The blonde stared at her, an annoyed expression on her face.

"Who the hell are you?" Ariel gasped out.

"I'm the girl that just saved your ass," the blonde replied. Ariel paused, blinking twice.

"I guess I kind of saved yours, too," she said. Her muscles were tight as she expected the girl to pounce at her, but instead, the blonde chuckled and casually turned around, peeking over her shoulder.

"See you around, Ariel," she said cheerfully.

"Wait!" Ariel shouted, and she ran into the hall, only to find it empty. Her light brown eyebrows drew together in frustration, and she ran a bloody hand through her short hair. As soon as she remembered that there was blood on her hand, she jerked it back down and cussed under her breath. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

She paused in the hallway as she listened for any sounds of a struggle. There didn't sound like anything, and that could mean good or bad things. Slowly, she made her way to the stairs, knife drawn. It was then that she realized that the blonde girl had had a knife that killed demons as well. A frown ghosted across Ariel's features as she wondered who the fuck that girl was and where she'd come from. And more importantly, where she'd gone.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she collided with Dean. She jumped back, grabbing her knife and lifting it above her head when she realized who was in front of her.

"Hey, hey hey!" Dean shouted in alarm as he held his hands out in front of him. "I've got a year left!"

Ariel let out a breath and lowered the knife, sheathing it in the back of her waistband. A chuckle escaped her lips, and she grinned at him.

"Oops," she replied innocently with a shrug. "We in the clear?"

"Believe it or not, yeah. Any of those sons of bitches up here?" he asked, his green eyes scanning around the hallway. She shook her head.

"Nope. I got them all. Well, technically, some blonde chick got them, but I kind of helped for the most part," she said. Dean frowned, his attention having been caught by "blonde chick."

"What blonde chick?" he asked in confusion. Ariel scoffed and shrugged.

"Fuck if I know. I was getting my ass kicked by Pride, and she just appeared. Stepped in and killed him, Greed, and Gluttony with a knife similar to mine. She was gone before I got a chance to figure out her name," she answered. Dean let out a groan.

"Why does weird shit like this always happen to us," he grumbled.

"Ariel? You up there?" Bobby called from the bottom of the stairs. She moved to the edge and peered down at him, lifting a hand to wave at him.

"Yep! I'm good. Dean came to fetch me," she called back. An alarmed expression filled Bobby's eyes, and he pointed to her hair.

"Is that blood?" he demanded. For a second, Ariel wasn't sure what he was talking about, and then she remembered the blood in her hair. She grimaced and nodded.

"It's not my blood, but it's blood. It was on my hand, and then I—" She mimed running her hand through her hair. Bobby made a disgusted face up at her.

"Nasty. Get down here, we still have work to do, girl," he said. She gave him a thumbs up and turned back to Dean, who was now making his own grimace as he looked at her hair. Playfully, she smacked his chest.

"Hey, I don't look so bad after nearly being choked to death by one of the Seven Deadly Sins," she said with a smirk. Her hands wrapped around his lower back, and she pulled him closer to her. A grin came across Dean's lips as he savored the physical contact between them. He leaned down and kissed her, feeling ok for the first time that night. Suddenly, he pulled back, a slight look of panic in his eyes.

"I was attacked by Lust, and she kissed me. I didn't cheat on you—I swear. I didn't even enjoy it," he babbled frantically. Ariel stared at him for a few seconds, and then she burst out laughing. The confused expression in his eyes only made her laugh harder, and she pulled him closer to her so that the length of her body was pressed against his. He looked so adorably confused and worried that she would be mad at him that she couldn't help but laugh.

"I think I can let that slide," she snickered. One hand snaked up around the back of Dean's head and pulled him down to kiss her again. She felt his neck muscles relax beneath her hand, his wide strong palms on her hips holding her firmly against him.

"I think I'm good on the whole lust thing without needing a demon to intervene, anyway," he murmured against her neck as his lips travelled down to her ear. She laughed, and the vibrations warmed his lips. She slid out of his grasp, her hand grabbing his and pulling him down the stairs.

"Let's go," she said, smiling up at him, and he knew he wouldn't have any choice but to follow.

* * *

Ariel hugged Bobby tightly in her arms before he got into the car.

"I'll be home soon, ok?" she said. He snorted, but an amused look was on his face.

"Yeah, last time you said that, I didn't see you for a month or so," he retorted. She paused, considering what he was saying, and then she shrugged.

"Ok, I guess you're right," she admitted. "But I _will_ be home soon. Don't do anything nuts while I'm gone. You need someone to keep your shit together for you."

"Language," Bobby gruffly corrected, but she knew that he never actually meant it when she said it. She rolled her eyes at him and gave him one more hug. She backed up towards Sam and Dean as they all raised a hand to wave goodbye to the older hunter. The smell of the burned demons lingered in her nose, the sting of it sharp and unpleasant. She wondered if the fact that she was used to the smell of burned bodies said something about her.

She pushed the thought out of her head and turned towards the brothers.

"So, where to?" she asked.

"Uh, I don't know. I was thinking Louisiana maybe," Sam suggested, glancing towards his older brother.

"Little early for Mardi Gras, isn't it?" Dean asked with a cheeky grin.

"Yeah, listen, I was talking to Tamera, and she mentioned this hoodoo priestess outside of Shreveport that might be able to help us out. You know, with your—with your demon deal," Sam stammered. He looked towards Ariel for back up, his hazel eyes sending her silent signals. She quickly nodded, looking back towards Dean.

"I think that's great," she said. "I'm down for Louisiana."

"Nah," Dean said. The tone of his voice was too casual; it was so casual that it was forced, and something about that really made Ariel's blood boil in a not so good way. Irritation flashed over her face, and she put her hands on her hips.

"'Nah?' What does that mean, 'nah'?" she demanded.

"Guys, no hoodoo spell's gonna break this deal, alright? It's a goose chase," he answered with another too casual shrug.

"Yeah, but we don't know that, Dean—" Sam began.

"Yes, we do. Forget it. She can't help," Dean interrupted firmly.

"Look, it's worth—"

"We're not going, and that's that," Dean interrupted again, his eyes cutting over to Ariel, daring her to argue with him. Her blue eyes were frustrated, and he could sense her struggling to hold back so she wouldn't yell at him. "What about Reno, huh?"

Dean smacked Sam's arm lightly and turned around. Sam turned to Ariel with a desperate look on his face. Wildly, she shrugged to show that she didn't know what to do, either. Anger finally crossed Sam's hazel eyes, and he reached out and grabbed Dean's sleeve.

"You know what? I've had it. I've been bending over backwards trying to be nice to you, and I don't care anymore." He shrugged.

"That's didn't last long," Dean smirked.

"Yeah, well, you know what? I've been busting my ass trying to keep you alive, Dean—hell, we _both_ have, and you act like you couldn't care less. What, you got some kind of death wish or something?" Sam furiously demanded.

"No, it's not like that," Dean calmly protested.

"Then what's it like, Dean?" Sam pressed.

"Sam—"

"Please. Tell me," Sam insisted. Dean glanced over towards Ariel who was watching wide-eyed at the whole scene taking place. When she saw him looking at her, she lifted her hands and stepped away.

"Don't look at me. This is a brother spat that I'm not involved in," she said and folded her arms over her chest. Dean looked back at his brother, twisting his lips as he thought.

"We trap the crossroads demon, trick it, try to welch our way out of the deal in any way? You die. Okay? You die, and Ariel gets dragged to the Furies, where they will then kill her. Those are the terms. There's no way out of it. If you try to find a way, so help me god, _I'm_ gonna stop you. I'm gonna stop both of you," he said in that same calm tone. Sam was calm, looking around as he tried to understand what Dean had just told him. He looked over at Ariel, and when he saw her avoid his gaze, he knew that she'd known about this. He sighed.

"How could you make that deal, Dean?" he quietly asked, his gaze settling on his brother.

"'Cause I couldn't live with you dead. Couldn't do it," Dean answered simply. A ghost of a smile was on the corners of his mouth, and Ariel saw the irritation run over Sam's face.

"So, what, now I live, and you die?" Sam asked.

"That's the general idea, yeah." Dean turned and began walking to the car. Sam hurried and caught up with him, while Ariel awkwardly trailed behind the both of them. She hated being caught in the middle of sibling fights, and this was exactly what was happening. She tried not to act like she was listening, even though she totally was.

"Yeah, well, you're a hypocrite, Dean. How did you feel when Dad sold his soul for you? 'Cause I was there. I remember. You were twisted and broken. And now you go and do the same thing. To me. To me and to Ariel. What you did was selfish," Sam spat back. Ariel waited for Dean to get mad, but he surprised her.

"Yeah, you're right. It was selfish. But I'm ok with that."

"I'm not," Sam protested. "Look at Ariel, do you think she's ok with it?" He gestured towards the blonde-haired hunter. Dean glanced over at her, and again she innocently held up her hands.

"Not a part of this," she said.

"Ar, come on. Are you ok with Dean selling his soul?" Sam pressed. She shot him an annoyed look, but she sighed, her eyes coming back to Dean.

"Of course I'm not ok with you selling your soul," she said. Her gaze went back to Sam. "Stop bringing me into the middle of your fight."

"Noted," Sam said, pointing at her before returning back to Dean.

"Well, tough," Dean said with a sigh. "After everything I've done for this family, I think I'm entitled." He paused. "Truth is, I'm tired, Sam. I don't know—it's like there's a—a light at the end of the tunnel."

"That's called hellfire," Ariel piped up. When Sam and Dean looked at her, she covered her hands with her mouth. "Sorry. Couldn't help it. I'll stay out."

"Whatever. You're alive. Ariel's alive. I feel good—for the first time in a long time. I got a year to live, Sam. I'd like to make the most of it. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches, and we raise a little hell, huh?" Dean grinned at his younger brother. He turned towards Ariel and gestured with his head for her to come over. She glared at him. "What? You mad at me, now?"

"I think you're a jackass," she said as she came close. "Your deal was selfish, and your attitude about all of this is selfish."

Dean sighed, "Ar—"

"No. I don't want to talk about this. Let's go," she said and walked to the car without looking back. Sam looked at his brother and lifted his eyebrows.

"You're unbelievable," he said. Dean paused and sighed.

"Very true."


	15. Unlucky

**Shoutouts to roxylove7, xBeautifullyxxShatteredx, and tigereyekum for reviewing!**

**I tried to fit the whole episode into one chapter, but it was getting too long, so it's being split into two chapters.**

**Enter Bela Talbot ;)**

**Keep letting me know what you think! Criticisms are welcome! Enjoy! =)**

* * *

Chapter 15

Dean was having a rough few days. He'd just finished up a case at his old girlfriend's house, and he'd just found out that Sam had come into contact with the blonde chick who'd helped Ariel during the Seven Deadly Sins attack. First off, Ariel hadn't been pleased at all to work with Lisa around, particularly when Lisa had a son that easily could've passed as Dean's, even though he wasn't Dean's kid. Dean had expected Ariel to be a lot more freaked over everything, but she'd surprised him by simply expressing that she wasn't thrilled about the job and not pushing anything else.

Lisa wasn't all that thrilled to have Ariel around, despite the fact that she and Dean had been over long ago. Still, it was a bit of an awkward situation that Dean hadn't wanted to face, and yet, he'd been thrown headfirst into it. He and Lisa had parted on friendly terms, and Ariel had even had the good grace to ruffle the top of Ben's head before she'd left. Thank God that was over.

And then Sam had just announced that he'd run into the blonde girl. The girl's name was Ruby, and, turns out, she was a demon. Dean was frustrated beyond belief. He turned to his brother in the passenger's seat, glowering at him.

"Because _demon_, that's why!" he exclaimed. I mean, the second you find out this Ruby chick is a demon, you go for the holy water! You don't chat!"

"No one was chatting, Dean," Sam answered in a tired voice. He turned around to look at Ariel in the backseat. He'd found that she was usually a pretty good ally to have on his side, and whenever she backed him on something, Dean would reluctantly come around and agree. Instead of receiving support, however, he received a little wrinkle of her nose that signaled she didn't exactly play for his team in this argument.

"Oh, yeah? Then why didn't you send her ass back to Hell?" Dean snapped.

"Because—because she said she might be able to help us out," Sam reluctantly revealed. His eyes turned to Ariel, and he saw her sitting up, leaning forward with interest and curiosity in her blue eyes. He knew he'd piqued her interest.

"How?" Dean demanded, not noticing that Ariel seemed to be pitching for Sam's team. Frustration bubbled up in his chest, and he refused to look at Sam, knowing that if he saw his younger brother with his floppy hair and puppy dog eyes, he'd punch him. Sam was quiet, and finally, Dean shot him a glare. "No, really, Sam, how? How could she possibly help us?"

"She told me she could help you, ok?" Sam sighed. He looked at Dean and saw that Dean still looked like he didn't get it. "Help you out of the Crossroads Deal."

"What is wrong with you?" Dean asked incredulously after staring at his brother in shock and horror, his pitch deep and angry. "She's lying, you gotta know that, right? She knows what your weakness is—it's me." He paused. "What else did she say?"

Sam caught the smirk on Ariel's mouth as she saw that Dean really didn't want to die. He was silent, though.

"Sam?" she pressed.

"Nothing. Nothing, ok? Look I'm not an idiot, Dean. I'm not talking about trusting her. I'm talking about using her. I mean, we're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy; we don't know where they are, we don't know what they're doing. I mean, hell, we don't know what they want. Now, this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now, yes, it's a risk, I know that, but we need to take it," Sam said calmly.

"You do realize that she can just snatch up Ariel and present her to the Furies, right? You do know that that's what she'll do?" Dean asked angrily. Sam sighed again, his own frustration growing the longer that Dean fought him.

"But she didn't," he protested. "She could've taken Ariel right after she killed the demon that was attacking her, but she didn't."

"You're ok, right? I mean, you're feeling ok?" Ariel asked from her spot in the backseat. Sam glared at her.

"Yes, I'm fine. Why's everyone always asking me that?" he exclaimed in frustration in a near shout. The sound of a cell phone ringing distracted everyone, breaking the awkward tension that had risen between all of them. Personally, Ariel was thankful for the distraction. Sam and Dean had been arguing a lot more recently, and all it did was make her feel awkward since she didn't think she had a place to be involved in their brotherly arguments. She reached onto the floorboard to pull her bag up and dig through the pockets to check all five of the cell phones she had, including her main cell.

"It's not mine," Sam said with a sigh that communicated his lingering frustration and anger.

"Nope," Dean chimed in.

"Not me, either," Ariel said as she shoved her phones back into the pocket of her duffel bag. Dean snapped his fingers and pointed to the glove box in front of Sam.

"Check the glove compartment. It's Dad's," he said. Sam gave Dean a look.

"_Dad's_?" he asked to clarify.

"Yes, I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call," Dean irritably explained. He looked into the rearview mirror and made eye contact with Ariel, his green eyes widening as he subtly shook his head back and forth to show that he was reaching the end of his rope. Ariel offered a tiny shrug and half-smile back at him. She couldn't say that she sided with him now that Sam had shared that this Ruby girl knew something that could get Dean out of his deal. Whenever she had a moment, she would be pulling Sam aside to talk to him.

Shortly after the first fight back after the battle with the Sins, she and Sam had reached an unspoken agreement that they'd both be trying to do whatever they could to get Dean out of his deal. They often met when Dean was sleeping or running inside a diner for a coffee break to discuss any new findings, quickly swapping information as quickly and inconspicuously as they could so as not to rile Dean up. So she knew that this latest with Ruby would merit a conversation with the younger Winchester.

"Hello? Yes…this is Edgar Cayce…" Sam said as he answered the cell phone. He looked at Dean with a confused frown on his face, and Dean shrugged back at him.

"What a terrible name," Ariel whispered from the backseat, causing Dean to crack a grin.

"No! No, no, no, don't—don't call the police. I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just uh, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Uhm, I—I uh, I don't have my—my book in front of me…" Sam turned to Ariel, wildly gesturing for a pen. Frantically, she pulled one out of her handy dandy duffel bag and presented it to him. "Do you—do you have the address so I can...sure, ok. Go ahead. Right, thanks a lot." Sam pressed the END button on the phone and then turned to look at Dean. "Dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?"

"What?" Dean asked in surprise, his forehead crinkling.

"Outside of Buffalo?"

"No way."

"Yeah. And someone just broke into it." Sam leaned back in his seat, his mind running as he wondered what John could possibly have been keeping in this storage place.

"That doesn't sound too promising," Ariel spoke up from the back.

"No shit," Dean replied with a frown. "You got an address for me, Sammy?"

"Right here." Sam handed it to his brother.

"Well, looks like we're heading to New York, fellas," Dean cheerily declared. "Sam, when was the last time we were in New York?"

"I don't fucking remember," Sam replied with a shrug. "I know we've done a few jobs there, but the last time I really remember being there was years ago when we were kids."

"Was it that one time when Dad was going after a shapeshifter?" Dean asked.

"I think so. What about you, Ariel? You ever been to New York?" Sam twisted to look back at her. She nodded.

"Yeah, upstate. Hunted a couple of werewolves that were attacking people," she replied.

"You hunted a couple of werewolves all by yourself?" Sam asked incredulously. Ariel was quiet for a few beats, and that was when Sam knew he'd messed up.

"No, that was when Elliot was still alive," she finally said.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"Damn right, you shouldn't have, Sam," Dean snapped, shooting a glower in Sam's direction.

"Dean," Ariel said firmly from the backseat as she pressed the heel of her palms against her closed eyes. "Why don't we all just…not talk for a while?"

"Stellar plan," Sam quickly answered, flashing another glare towards Dean as they all settled into silence.

* * *

The rest of the car ride was carried out with silence between the three. At some point, Dean finally turned on the radio to drown out the tension that screamed between all of them. Ariel felt guilty for being pissed at him; she didn't have very long left with him, and so far, all she'd done was get mad at him and keep secrets from him. But then again, they weren't a normal couple, and this wasn't a normal situation. It wasn't as if he were dying of cancer because she couldn't even get mad at him about that. There was no way to beat cancer. But this? There was definitely a way to beat the demon deal. She knew there had to be a way.

Hours later, they were finally at the storage facility. Ariel peered at it through the window, hearing the sounds of Dean cussing at the drivers honking behind him since he was parked in the middle of the street.

"Hey, why don't you go on in, and Ariel and I will park the car?" Sam asked Dean, his voice innocent and full of good intentions.

"Why do you need Ariel?" Dean asked, a frown on his mouth. Sam gave him a bored expression.

"Dude, you know how I am with parallel parking in a city. She won't mind hopping out to make sure I don't hit any cars. I mean, I can always do it by myself, but I can't guarantee that your car won't get damaged." Sam's voice was still innocent and genuinely filled with concern. At the mention of the Impala being damaged, Dean's green eyes widened in slight panic.

"I don't mind," Ariel interjected.

"Fine, fine, don't hit anything, for Christ's sake," Dean muttered, quickly hopping out of the car. Sam took Dean's place, and Ariel tumbled over the back of the front seat to take the passenger's seat. She grunted as she readjusted herself into a seated position. Sam was watching Dean walk into the storage place, and he finally sighed as the door shut behind his older brother.

"Nice job playing good cop," he remarked to Ariel as he shifted the Impala into drive and began hunting for a parking spot out front. She grinned and pretended to toss her long hair that she didn't have.

"I should've been an actress," she sighed dramatically, meriting a chuckle from Sam. "It's so nice to play good cop for once. I always had to do bad cop when I worked cases with Elliot."

"You were bad cop?" Sam asked in surprise. Ariel rolled her blue eyes and nodded.

"Elliot could never have done bad cop. He looked too much like the kinda nerdy hipster kid for anyone to really be intimidated by him, so he got to be the good cop that people wanted to trust while I had to play the bitch. Though I got to play good cop whenever it was big, muscley guys who would rather open up to me than a skinny nerd." She smiled at the memory. "But anyway, I digress. I think Dean doesn't have any idea that we're looking for ways to get him out of the deal. I mean, he knows _you're_ looking, but he thinks _I'm_ too upset to talk about it, so he's not worrying about us as a collective team. Or gang, depending on how you look at it. So what'd Ruby say?"

"I knew you'd change tunes about working with her once you found out she could help Dean," Sam said with a cheeky grin, his hazel eyes still searching both sides of the street for an empty parking spot.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. So tell me: what'd she say?"

"Honestly, she didn't really say anything. All she said was that she could help Dean. Didn't elaborate or anything on it."

"I guess that that's not 100% useless."

"Guess so. I'm willing to take any leads we can get."

Ariel snorted, "Shit, so am I. I'm not letting him go to Hell on my watch."

The mood in the Impala dampened considerably. Sam felt brooding come over him, even as he found a coveted parking spot across the street from the storage center. He didn't actually need Ariel to get out and make sure he parallel parked ok, but she got out anyway just in case Dean was watching from inside the building. Dean still thought Sam was a kid just learning to drive who couldn't parallel park, and for the first time, Sam was glad that his older brother couldn't see him as the age it was since it'd come in handy for him just now.

He got out of the car and locked it. Ariel stepped off the sidewalk and crossed to join him, the both of them walking briskly across the street together. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye; she wasn't looking at him, but he didn't need to see her navy blue eyes to know that she was getting teary from the conversation they'd just had. Guilt and sadness weighed heavily in Sam's heart as he tore his gaze away from her. Honestly, he hadn't known her all that long—though by Winchester standards, he'd known her forever—but she was the only person outside of the family that he trusted. Hell, she basically _was_ family. As far as he was concerned, Ariel was Bobby's daughter, and that meant she was family. Besides, if he and Dean had had normal lives, he easily could've seen Dean marrying this girl. And that in itself said something since his brother was a womanizing, bed-hopping devil.

"You're different, you know," he said out loud. He felt Ariel's eyes bore into his skull fiercely.

"Shut up," she muttered.

"I'm serious," he insisted, his voice reflecting that he was dead serious. "Dean's never acted this way about any woman before. He's changed a lot because of you."

He took another peek at her, and he only felt even more saddened as he saw her mouth trembling and several tears streaking down her face. His words had meant to comfort her, not upset her even more. Quickly, she wiped at them and sniffed in an attempt to look casual as they approached the door to the building, but her eyes were already red, and the tear tracks had left stains on her face.

Dean's face was annoyed as they walked into the building.

"I thought you were supposed to find a parking spot _before_ I went to Hell. Not take so long that I'd be dead ages ago," he droned sarcastically. He went to make another comment when he caught sight of Ariel's face. Instantly, concern took over, and he reached out for her. His green eyes glowered at Sam accusingly. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing! I didn't do anything!" Sam protested.

"Dean, stop," Ariel shakily mumbled to him, wiping her face again. "It's nothing. I just got emotional. Don't worry about it."

"Come here, baby," he murmured as he held her closely to him. He'd noticed that over the past few days, the endearments had been slipping out more easily. They reminded him of the dream world the Djinn had sent him to, the world where he and Ariel were normal people, and he could tell her he loved her and hold her and protect her without fear of anything supernatural getting her.

"I'm fine. Seriously, I am. Don't worry about it." She reluctantly pulled back from him, but she was smiling. Dean could detect a forced quality to it, but he didn't push it. Instead, he stared intently at Sam, who only shrugged and looked offended in return.

"Come on, let's go see what the hell's in this storage hold Dad's got," Dean said, gesturing with Sam to come with. He let go of Ariel, who'd beautifully pulled herself back together with one last sniffle and wiping of her face, as they all walked forward together to see the damage that'd been done.

* * *

So far, the day had turned out to be extremely productive. They'd managed to identify that something in a curse box had been taken from the room, and they'd even managed to get the license plate number of the thieves' car, tracking it back to their apartment.

Dean leaned out of his window to inspect the car's license plates beside him.

"Connecticut. Last three digits 880," he called back to Sam, who had lost shotgun to Ariel.

"Yep, that's it," Sam confirmed.

"Bingo, motherfuckers!" Ariel crowed from the front seat beside Dean. "Should've blacked out their plates before they parked in front of a fucking security camera."

"Don't you just love amateur criminals?" Sam remarked with a smirk. Dean nodded emphatically.

"Hell yeah, I do. Make our job a lot easier," he responded with an easygoing snort. "If only ever asshole on the face of the Earth were this stupid."

"So what's the plan?" Ariel asked. "We go in, and we take it?"

"Something along those lines," Dean replied. "Brute force is usually the best way to go, I've learned.

Ariel dramatically clasped a hand to her chest. "Ah, be still my heart. I knew you'd be a good match for me."

Dean chuckled. "Excuse you, you couldn't stand me for the first few days."

"Honey, that was you."

"What?"

"Yeah, pretty sure that was you who couldn't stand me."

"Not trying to crash this disgustingly unromantic moment, but Ariel's right. You hated her for the first few days you knew her," Sam piped up. "Jesus, you guys kind of make me wanna puke."

"_You _make me wanna puke, you…you…puke maker," Dean lamely sputtered. Ariel and Sam both burst into laughter, and he huffed out an angry sigh. "Whatever. Bite me. Let's go."

Snickering loudly, Ariel got out of the passenger seat, she and Sam meeting Dean at the front of the car and walking into the building.

"Got the apartment number?" Sam asked her. She held up a piece of paper with a few pen scribbles resembling handwriting on it. He nodded in response. They quietly entered the building and began slowly and efficiently moving up the stairs to the apartment of their focus. Once they reached the door, they all looked at each, silently communicating their previously discussed plan. Dean's eyes met Ariel's, and she nodded.

He reached towards the doorknob and twisted, not all that surprised to find it unlocked. If these jackasses were stupid enough to park in front of a security camera with their real license plates, they'd be stupid enough to leave the front door to their apartment unlocked. He looked back over his shoulder at Ariel and Sam.

"Really?" he mouthed inaudibly. "Fucking assholes."

And then they were inside the apartment. Ariel had her gun drawn, ready to fire at any moment. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins at high speed. She wondered if she were an adrenaline junkie because she always loved the feeling she got whenever she was hunting; there was something indescribable about chasing something. For the millionth time, she wondered if the fact that she enjoyed hunting said something bad about her, something she didn't want to face. Maybe it was something she had in common with her father, the same thing that had gotten him killed. She didn't know, and in that moment, she really couldn't care less as she stalked forward to cover Dean, knowing that Sam was covering her.

She could hear voices talking, and she wasn't really listening, although she caught something that sounded like, "handing it over to that stuck-up bitch." She came to a halt as Dean paused behind the doorway, still hidden. He looked back over his shoulder again, and she and Sam knew exactly what he was saying.

In three seconds, they leapt out, guns drawn.

"Freeze!" Dean shouted.

"Don't move!" Sam ordered in a deadly commanding voice.

"Don't move, assholes!" Ariel snapped at the two dirty-looking guys in front of her. As her eyes skimmed over them disapprovingly, she nicknamed them Buzzcut and Baldy in her mind. "Stop!"

The guys held their hands up, their faces looking absolutely stunned to see the three hunters holding them up like this.

"Alright, give us the box. And _please_ tell me that you didn't—"

"Oh, they did," Ariel interrupted Dean with a chuckle as she saw John Winchester's missing box lying open. She watched both Sam and Dean turn their gazes to the box, frustration and anger crossing over their faces. Before she could stop herself, she laughed again, a solid, hearty chuckle. "You guys are really some fucking idiots."

"You opened it?!" Dean roared in anger as he shoved Buzzcut against the wall.

"Are you guys cops?" Buzzcut asked, his voice shaking.

"Huh?" Dean shoved the guy into the wall harder.

"Are you guys cops?!" Buzzcut repeated as his voice rose higher with hysteria.

"What was in the box?" Dean demanded. His gun was still trained on the guy, and as Ariel watched how Dean kept him pinned to the wall, she somehow found her mouth getting dry as she saw how in control he was. _Goddammit, this is not the time to be getting horny, A_, she thought to herself as she swept her thoughts and her urges under a mental carpet. Still, the sight of Dean all angry and flustered and in control like that made her knees the tiniest bit weak.

Buzzcut's eyes drifted to the table, and she followed his gaze. Dean caught his glance and looked over his shoulder to see a rabbit's foot sitting on the coffee table.

"Oh, was that it, huh? It was, wasn't it? What is that thing?" Dean's control faltered as he looked back in genuine curiosity towards the lumpy furry thing. Buzzcut took his opportunity and pushed Dean off of him. Dean's gun dropped to the ground, and a shot fired. The bullet ricocheted all over the room, and Ariel froze as she watched in stunned horror as it shot past everyone, bouncing around like a boomerang. She gasped as the flying bullet knocked her own gun and then Sam's out of their hands, and she was suddenly disarmed and weaponless.

She, Sam, and Dean all exchanged a quick look in 0.3 seconds. Baldy took that opportunity to leap on Sam, the latter pushing back to attack but only getting knocked into Ariel who was then knocked into Dean. Dean went sprawling back first onto the coffee table, snapping the legs from underneath it. He groaned as he landed hard.

"Sorry," she said with a sheepish grin. Then she was tackled to the ground by someone—in the quick flash, she couldn't tell if it was Baldy or Buzzcut, but either way, she didn't like it—and she let out a yelp as she slammed into the floor.

"I don't want to hit a lady, but—" Baldy punched her hard across the face. For the second time in the past two weeks, she found herself getting choked. _People can't get anymore original than this?_ Ariel thought briefly. She tried struggling as hard as she could, wondering where the hell Dean and Sam were and why no one was helping her, when she saw the rabbit's foot next to her. Desperately, she reached out and grabbed it.

In one quick motion, she pulled Baldy's hands from around her throat and kicked him off of her. As she pulled herself to her feet, she saw that Sam had been thrown into Dean, or Dean had been thrown into Sam, and they were struggling to stand up.

"Dean! I got it!" she shouted, lifting the rabbit's foot in her hand.

"No, you don't," Buzzcut hissed, suddenly appearing from nowhere and shoving a gun in her face. This wasn't the first time Ariel had ever stared down the barrel of a gun, and she found herself passively gazing at it, trying to look as though she weren't afraid, even though she was. The Furies may have marked her off territory to demons, but to humans, she was free game.

"Ariel!" Dean shouted. Buzzcut pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He stared in unpleasant surprise at the gun, and he tried again. Still nothing. She took a step towards him, and he freaked out, backing up, only to fall over backwards after tripping on the fallen couch. Dean and Sam were standing next to her, and they all looked at each other in very pleased surprise. Dean's eyes widened, and his body tightened.

"Sam!" he shouted. She looked over her shoulder and saw Baldy trying to shoot Sam…until the bookshelf kind of fell on his head, and his gun was in Ariel's hand by some chance of weird luck that she'd caught it as it'd been tossed across the room by Baldy. They all stared in stunned silence at the destruction around them, their mouths open as they tried to think of something to say.

"That was a lucky break," Dean finally managed. He caught his breath, and he frowned as he looked closer at the lump in Ariel's hand. "Is that a rabbit's foot?"

"I think it is," she remarked as she squinted at it. "Did this cause all of…" she swept her arm around her, "…this?"

"I think so because there's no way you're that fucking lucky," Dean returned with a snort. She grinned at him and nodded.

"Congratulations to me, I guess?" she said, her voice rising to make it seem more like a question. Dean reached out to put an arm around her, gesturing with his head to Sam.

"I'm gonna see if I can find anything like this in Dad's journal," he said. "Surely there's gotta be some mention of it."

"In the meantime, I'm gonna make a pit stop for a little something first," Dean said with a mischievous grin.

"Uh oh. That doesn't look promising," Ariel said cautiously. He rolled his eyes.

"Please. It's something good. I'm using your powers for good."

* * *

"Dean, I'm not scratching these lottery tickets," Ariel said in a monotone as she looked up at him from the paper bag he'd planted in her lap.

"Dude, we can get rich with you having this lucky streak," Dean insisted excitedly. "Do you know how much money we could get? No more hustling pool, no more credit scams, no more selling you out to lonely truck drivers…"

"What? Buzz off," Ariel retorted as Dean winked at her.

"Dean, it's gotta be cursed somehow. There's no mention of it in Dad's journal, and besides, it was in a locked box. If it weren't cursed, Dad wouldn't have locked it up in the first place," Sam spoke up, his eyes lingering on Ariel in the front seat. He'd lost shotgun to her again, though he had an inkling that it wasn't just lucky chance this time; he had an idea that it was way more than lucky chance. He watched Ariel rub off the lottery ticket with the edge of a coin, her eyebrows drawn together in concentration. When she was done, she smirked and turned it around proudly to show them.

"Boys, I just won us $1200," she bragged.

"I don't know, man, it doesn't seem that cursed to me," Dean said as he grabbed the card from Ariel. He leaned over and kissed Ariel deeply, flipping Sam off as he made choking noises. "Babe, have I ever told you you're the best?"

"You can keep telling me," she responded with a grin. "But Dean, I don't know. Something's weird about this whole thing."

Dean handed her another lottery card. "We'll let the stars do the talking for us."

"You're a load of shit."

"I don't think the stars are saying that."

"Maybe the stars aren't, but I am." She scratched off a few more cards, only to see that she'd won a shit ton more money. "But the stars are definitely in my favor today. Or a curse. A curse could be in my favor."

"Has anyone told you you're a downer?" Dean retorted.

"I thought you said I was the best," she responded with a pout. He winked at her. "There's something funny about this. Add up how much money we've got, Dean. Hey, Sam, want some?"

Sam was dialing Bobby's number, and he was caught by surprise as Ariel tossed the rabbit's foot back to him. He caught in one hand and glanced warily at her.

"I'm calling Bobby on this one," he said. He got out of the car, Dean and Ariel following him.

"That's a good idea. He'll know if this thing is cursed, and it'll be settled once and for all," she replied.

"Bobby? It's me. Yeah, I just had a question."

She listened to Sam talk to Bobby, hearing him get increasingly more upset. She and Dean glanced at each other, and the realization hit her that Bobby knew something that wasn't very good about this rabbit's foot. She moved closer to Sam so that she could hear the conversation. As she moved forward, she tripped and nearly fell, but Sam shouldered her fall, pushing her back to her feet. She grinned sheepishly and mouthed a thanks to him.

"Now, look, Bobby, we didn't know," Sam protested.

"You touched it? Dammit, Sam!" Bobby hissed over the line so loudly that Ariel could hear.

"Well, Dad never told us about this thing. I mean, you knew about his storage place at Black Rock?" Sam questioned, glancing at Ariel with a worried look.

"His lockup? Yeah, I knew. Hell, I built those curse boxes for him," the hunter answered with an indignant snort. Ariel could picture the irritated look on his face, and she smirked to herself. "Listen, you have got a serious problem."

Sam noticed a glint of gold under a newspaper, and he frowned, bending down to pick it up. It was a gold watch. Ariel lifted her eyebrows in surprise and gave him a thumbs up. Sam turned to Dean and showed it.

'That rabbit's foot ain't no dime store notion," Bobby said.

"Awesome," Dean mouthed back.

"It's real Hoodoo, Old World stuff, made by a Baton Rouge conjure woman about a hundred years ago," Bobby continued.

"It's a hell of a luck charm," Sam replied reluctantly.

"It's not a luck charm, it's a curse! She made it to kill people, Sam! See, you touch it, you own it. You own it, sure, you get a run of good luck to beat the Devil. But you lose it, that luck turns. It turns so bad that you're dead inside a week," Bobby snapped. Ariel's eyes widened, and Sam stared at her as they both realized the same thing at the same time: she'd given the luck charm to Sam. "Boy, are you still there?"

"Um, yeah, Bobby. Uh, we just have a bit more of a problem," Sam slowly replied, his eyes still glued on Ariel. At the mention of that, Dean came careening around the side of the car to listen and be in on everything, too. He curiously looked at Ariel, and he saw her blink hard.

"What the fuck do you mean you have a bit more of a problem?" Bobby crossly demanded. Sam swallowed, and he looked at Dean with worry in his eyes.

"Um, Ariel touched it," he said even more slowly.

"_Ariel_ touched it?!" Bobby roared. Sam jerked back and held the phone several inches away from his ear with a grimace on his face.

"Yeah, Bobby. Ariel touched it. And she…she gave the rabbit's foot to me."

"Jesus fucking Christ. Put me on the phone with her."

Sam held the phone out to her, and she stared wide-eyed at him, shaking her head no in a panic. Insistent, Sam pushed it towards her, wildly gesturing to her to take it. She heaved a mini-sigh and snatched it from him.

"Hey, Bobby," she weakly answered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam and Dean having a whisper fight, and she turned her back on it so she wouldn't get distracted.

"Why the _hell_ would you touch a rabbit's foot? You have better sense than that!" Bobby snapped angrily. "I swear, you're losing your common sense, Ariel!"

"I was being choked to death by some asshole thief!" she protested. "If I hadn't touched it, I'd probably be dead!"

"Don't play the sympathy card with _me_, girl. You and Sam have to pass that damn thing back and forth so neither of you up and dies on me. Ariel, I have no idea if this curse can be broken. Do you understand what this means?"

"Yes, Bobby, I know. We'll just…we'll switch off."

"Just…just sit tight. Lemme look through my library and make a few calls. Don't do anything else stupid, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Bobby."

The hunter had hung up, and she turned around to look at the two brothers who were waiting expectantly for her to get off the phone, seemingly having ended their whisper fight.

"Looks like you and I have to pass this thing back and forth so we don't—" She made a cutting motion across her neck. Sam sighed.

"Great. Just great."

"We might as well go chow down on some food while we wait for Bobby to call us back, folks. Shall we?" Dean piped up, holding his hand out to Ariel. "It is never the wrong time for a burger."

* * *

Ariel agitatedly swatted the spoon out of her face as she scowled at Dean, whose hand was holding the spoon up to her.

"Come on, take a bite," he said.

"No," she snapped.

"I guess you're right. I can think of better ways to use ice cream." Dean winked at the blonde as she shot him a dirty look. She reached her hand out to push the spoon away from her again when the ice cream slid off the spoon and onto her pants. He quickly scooted to the far side of the booth to dodge any blows she sent his way. Instead of smacking him, however, she went to grab her napkin to clean it off her pants. Only to bump her plate and have it go flying off the table. She waited for it to crash to the floor, but Sam caught it, a wide smile on his face at his luck. She put her face in her hands and sighed.

"This is gonna be a long day," she dejectedly muttered into her hands. Dean's arms slid around her, his body nice and warm and firm against her shoulder as he pulled her into him.

"You're just fine. Ol' Dean's gotcha," he said, his tone sounding more as though he were comforting a dog than his girlfriend. She peeked through her hands at him, and he couldn't help grinning at her.

"You're taking me being cursed really lightly," she said through her hands. He snorted.

"We'll get you out of it," he said. "You'll see."

"Well, Bobby's right," Sam spoke up from behind his laptop. He glanced up to see Dean with his arms around Ariel. "Aren't you lovebirds sweet." Ariel flipped him off, and he chortled before looking back down at his laptop. "This lore goes way back. Pure Hoodoo. You can't just cut one off any rabbit. Has to be in a cemetery, under a full moon, on a Friday the 13th."

Dean kept one arm around Ariel, holding her close to his body as he took another giant bite of his ice cream.

"I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson's," he announced. His face squinched up as a brain freeze hit him, and he let out a groan, pressing his hand to his forehead. Ariel grinned at him and rubbed his back.

"You're just fine. Ol' Ariel's gotcha," she teased as she repeated his words back to him. She looked up as she saw a waitress with a short black bob approach them, a pot of coffee in her hand.

"Can I freshen you up?" the waitress asked.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Thanks," Sam replied, his hazel eyes stuck to the waitress.

"I'll have some, too, thanks," Ariel added. The waitress filled Ariel's cup, and then she began filling Sam's. Ariel noticed the smile that the waitress was flashing towards Sam, the way she was batting her eyelashes in such a blatantly obvious way. She inwardly grinned to herself. After having run with the Winchester boys for the past month, she'd noticed that they both drew a lot of female attention. Women were attracted to Sam's big puppy dog eyes and Dean's bad boy vibe.

The waitress spilled a little coffee over the edge as she was gawking at Sam, and she gasped in a shy, embarrassed little way. Sam stammered around a little as he tried to back away from the coffee so it wouldn't get on him.

"Let me mop up here," the waitress said apologetically.

"No, no, don't worry, it's ok, it's ok. I got it—uh—"

"It's no trouble, really." She gave him a flirtatious smile, her eyes lingering on his face a little longer than they should have. Dean's shoulders relaxed under Ariel's hand as his brain freeze went away, and he realized what was playing out in front of him. He and Ariel exchanged discreet, amused looks.

"Ok," Sam finally agreed.

"Sorry about that." The waitress continued smiling as she finished wiping down the table in front of him.

"It's all right." As she walked off, she looked back over her shoulder at Sam. All three of them watched her leave. By the time she was out of sight, Ariel dissolved into giggles.

"Well, we know who she was undressing with her eyes," she said teasingly.

"If you were _ever_ gonna get lucky," Dean agreed with a disbelieving look.

"Shut up," Sam shot back, but he was smiling as he did. He reached out for his coffee, but suddenly, he'd knocked it over, and it was all over him and the table. Ariel moved back so that it didn't get on her, picking her up napkin and putting it on top of the liquid as it spread towards her.

"Oh—oh shit, uh—" She stood up to get away from it, but it was at the same time that Sam stood up. Simultaneously, they crashed into each other. "Fuck!" She backed up and knocked into a waiter while Sam tripped over the edge of the booth and went crashing to the floor. He looked up at Ariel with eyes wide with horror.

"How was that good?" Dean hissed to him as Sam and Ariel stood up. Frantically, Sam began digging through his jacket pockets before looking up at Ariel and Dean with panic in his eyes. The rabbit's foot was gone.

"Fuck!" Ariel snapped.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean growled. He looked back and forth between Ariel and Sam as they exchanged horrified looks with each other as they realized that they were both now the subject of bad luck. He let out a groan and rubbed his hand through his short hair in frustration. He could manage keeping one of them alive, but two? Dean hadn't even touched the foot, but it seemed like bad luck was following behind him in the shadows.


	16. Batman

**Shoutout to roxylove7 for reviewing!**

**I haven't been getting many reviews from y'all the past few chapters. Life just catching up with everyone, or are you guys losing interest? Be honest! When I'm not hearing from you guys, I don't update. I kind of take that as people are losing interest, so please let me know if you're just not into it anymore, or if you're just busy.**

**Here's the next chapter! Enjoy =)**

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* * *

Chapter 16

Dean was realizing just how far in over his head he was as he heard loud grunts coming from Sam and Ariel behind him. Afraid of what he was going to find, he reluctantly turned around and saw the two on the ground, wincing in pain from having fallen onto the hard surface of the Biggerson's parking lot.

"Wow! You both suck!" he declared, even though he went back to pull Ariel up to her feet. As she stood up, she looked down and swore out loud.

"Goddammit! These are good jeans," she bemoaned as she saw the rips in the knees. Blood and gravel were on her skin, but she didn't seem to be concerned with that.

"You ok?" Dean asked. She nodded, but she had a frown of immense displeasure on her face. He turned towards Sam, and he helped his brother stand when he saw him struggling to get up. He stepped back and blew air out between his lips.

"You two are a sorry ass sight," he chuckled. "So what, your luck turns bad?"

"That'd explain what's been happening to me ever since I tossed Sam the foot. And now look at Sam," Ariel dully replied, shaking some strands of hair out of her face.

"I guess," Sam agreed.

"I wonder how bad," Dean mumbled as he began walking beside a limping Ariel and Sam.

"Dude, we're gonna die if we don't get that foot back," Ariel grunted as she carefully put one foot in front of the other. The pain from her fall was starting to register in her body, and a pained grimace was plastered to her face as she slowly moved forward.

"Then we're gonna get the foot back. The two of you aren't dying, so long as I can help it," Dean replied. He missed the look that Ariel and Sam exchanged behind his back. He had no idea that they were working together to get him out of his deal, and he had no idea that what he'd just said had been an echo of what Ariel had said earlier that day when she and Sam had parked the Impala outside the storage facility.

Ariel swept her face clean of any signs that might give her thoughts away, and she limped pathetically to the car.

"I don't even care if you get shotgun," she said with a grimace to Sam. She let the energy drain out of her body as she flopped onto the backseat, a sigh of relief coming from her as she found a bit of solace from the pain by lying on her back with her knees straight. Sam glanced at her in the backseat, feeling the rumble of the engine come to life when Dean turned the key.

"How do you fit back there all stretched out?" he asked.

"Comes with being below average height," she replied. "Where are we going now?"

"We have some friends we need to see that can give us a clue about that waitress who took the foot," Dean replied.

"Friends?" Sam repeated.

"Yep. We met them earlier."

"You mean Baldy and Buzzcut," Ariel corrected from her lying down position. Dean paused.

"Uh, yeah. Baldy and Buzzcut." He caught sight of a thumbs up coming from Ariel in the rearview mirror, and he couldn't hide the smile that came over his face.

He wasn't terribly concerned about not getting the foot back; Sam and Ariel weren't going to die because this was a simple enough job, he thought. They'd go in, scare the shit out of the guys until they told him whom the foot belonged to, and then they'd go scare the shit out of the owner, get it back, and destroy the fucking thing. Bobby still had to call them back, but Dean had faith in the man. Bobby always came through, and he would come through for them again.

* * *

Ariel was getting more and more pissed off as her luck got worse and worse. They'd been able to guilt Baldy into telling them the name of the person he'd been hired to steal the foot for: Bela Lugosi. However, she and Sam had made asses out of themselves the several times they'd tripped and sprawled and knocked shit over in the apartment. Dean was several feet away from her talking to Bobby while Sam was fighting to get gum off his shoe. The sound of it scraping against the concrete was getting on her nerves, and she huffed, holding her hand out impatiently.

"Give me the damn shoe," she ordered.

"What? Why?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Just give it to me. I'm sick of listening to you try to get the gum off," she replied. Sam pushed the shoe off and handed it to her too roughly, knocking her backwards and onto the ground. And into a puddle. She could hear Sam laughing, and she closed her eyes as she tried to pull herself together. Keeping still, she breathed slowly in and out until she felt the anger bubble down. She opened her eyes and held the shoe in her hands as she stood up. Her ass was soaked through with water, but she ignored it as she grabbed a stick off the ground and began poking at the sole of the shoe. The stick snapped in two, and she looked at Sam.

"I don't think you're gonna have much better luck," he said with a reluctant smile. She knelt down and began scraping his shoe against the edge of a storm drain, the sound of it less grating than it had been against concrete.

"Lugosi," Sam replied to something Dean had called over to him.

"That name sounds so familiar," Ariel said, continuing to scrape the shoe. "I think I've heard it before, but I don't know. Bela Lugosi. It's on the tip of my tongue."

Suddenly, her hands seemed to have a mind of their own, and they opened. Stunned, she watched Sam's shoe drop to the bottom of the storm drain. Hesitantly, she looked up to see if he'd noticed. Unfortunately, he had. If he'd been mad, that would've been so much easier for her to deal with than the dejected, heartbroken expression on his face. The puppy dog eyes worked, and she immediately felt as though she'd just kicked a tiny baby dog.

"Oops," she lamely supplied. With an equally lame grin, she went to stand up, but she slipped on the slick metal of the grate and landed with a crash on top of it. "Goddammit! Shit, that's hard!"

Sam reached a hand down to help her up, and she accepted it. She should've expected that when she pulled on him to pull herself up, he'd fall. But she didn't expect it, and that was exactly what'd happened. He fell with a crash, his elbow knocking her against the jaw, and her forehead colliding with the side of his skull. Dazed, she lay flat on her back, desperately trying to ignore the feeling of dirty water seeping through her clothes, as Sam flailed to get up.

"What the fuck?" Dean asked, hurrying over to the two of them. She continued to lie completely still on her back as Sam stood up, and her eyes met Dean's as he was suddenly over her looking down at her.

"She lost my shoe," Sam said plaintively, sounding like a sad little kid that somehow brought back a thousand memories to Dean's mind.

"Leave me here to die," Ariel sighed pathetically from her sprawled out position on the ground. Dean rolled his green eyes in exasperation and knelt down to help her to her feet. For someone who was so levelheaded and grounded, she really could be overdramatic and superfluous.

"I'm not leaving anyone to die. Where's your determination, Ar? We've got a lead. Bela Lugosi's real name is Bela Talbot," he said, his arm getting wet from the back of Ariel's shirt. He was shaking his arm to get the excess liquid off when Ariel suddenly gasped. She snapped her fingers as a light bulb seemed to go off in her brain.

"Bela Talbot! I knew I knew her name somewhere. God, she's a fucking bitch," she said.

"More or less along the lines of what Bobby said," Dean added. He gave her a onceover. "You look terrible."

Her face fell, and her bottom lip poked out in an adorable pout. Unable to resist her, he laughed and pulled her close, ignoring the wetness of her clothes soaking through his own shirt as he kissed her. At first, she didn't kiss him back, but her soft lips eventually began to feed him back in return. Her hands tentatively moved to his chest as his moved to her hips to get a more solid hold on her. He felt dizzy as her lips moved against his.

"Hey," Sam interjected. He paused, waiting for them to stop. They kept kissing. He cleared his throat. "Hey!"

Dean finally pulled back, his eyes soft as he looked at Ariel before he turned them to look at Sam with agitation.

"You really know how to ruin a good moment, you know that?" he asked as they all began to walk back to the car.

"Dude, I just want to not be cursed anymore," Sam replied with a chuckle. "It's putting a damper on things."

"Don't talk about 'damp' right now," Ariel grumbled in contempt as she stared at him with a glare that promised a thousand different deaths at her hand. Dean made a face as he looked at her again.

"You ain't getting in the car like that, Ol' Faithful," he teased. She wrinkled her nose at him.

"That's not even a good insult."

"Whatever. Hold on, I've got a towel in the trunk." He popped open the trunk and lo and behold, produced a towel. "Don't get any wetness anywhere."

"That's not what you said several nights ago," she mumbled loud enough for him to hear as she took the towel from him and climbed into the backseat. He chuckled wickedly and winked at her after he'd taken his spot in the driver's seat and Sam had taken shotgun.

"That's my girl," Dean said, beginning to drive back to the motel. "But seriously. Don't get the seats wet." He sighed. "I sound like a dad. I sound like a fucking dad."

His phone rang, and he flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Dean, it's me. I made a few calls, and some reliable sources told me that Bela lives in Queens," Bobby answered.

"Perfect. That's a start," Dean cheerfully replied.

"How's Ariel doing?"

"Oh, she's, uh—" Dean glanced into the rearview only to see her glaring furiously out the window. "—happy as can be."

"So she's still alive?"

"What, you don't trust me? I'm more than capable of making sure that she and Sam don't die."

"You should've left me in that puddle to rot," Ariel grumbled in the backseat.

"She started whining yet?" Bobby asked in a monotone.

"Uh, yeah, why?"

"She does that every time she gets cursed. She can kill just about every other damn thing in the world and do it without complaint, but she won't shut up whenever she gets cursed," Bobby replied. Dean pulled the phone away from his ear, tilting his head back towards Ariel.

"You've been cursed before?" he asked. She heaved an annoyed sigh and nodded.

"Yeah. So what? You can't be in the business for this long and not get cursed," she answered defensively.

"Have her tell you about the witch she pissed off last year," Bobby suggested. Ariel heard it over the phone, and she suddenly snatched it out of Dean's hand.

"Don't give him ideas," she hissed into the phone.

"Hey, Ari, nice to hear that you're your usual cheery, bouncing self," Bobby said with a snicker.

"Very funny," she snapped. "What'd you find out on Bela?"

"Apartment in Queens. I'm trying to remember—have you run into her before on any jobs in the past?"

"Just once, unfortunately. It didn't end very well."

"Oh, yeah, you shot her."

"Damn right I shot her! She's the human I probably hate most in the world." Ariel's voice dripped with venom, and she only scowled even deeper as Bobby laughed.

"You're just in a bad mood because you're cursed. Let me talk to Dean, cranky."

Listlessly, she passed the phone back up to the older Winchester and leaned back into the towel around her shoulders as Dean talked with Bobby. She noticed that they were in the motel parking lot, a fact that didn't surprise her all that much. Dean knew she'd want to change before they headed out to get Bela. Dean hung up and pocketed the phone, turning to look at both Sam and Ariel.

"Alright, Bobby's got it on pretty good authority that this Bela chick…lives in Queens. So it'll take me about two hours to get there," he said evenly. Ariel instantly picked up on the singular usage of "me" instead of the plural form of "us."

"'Me'?" she quoted back to him. Sam frowned at his brother.

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

"You, my two lovely friends, are staying here 'cause I don't want your bad luck getting us killed," Dean replied nonchalantly. Suddenly, he frowned, and his gaze darted to Ariel. "Wait, did you say on the phone just now that you _shot_ Bela?"

A flicker of irritation crossed her face. "Yeah, I shot her last year. She was interfering with the job, and if I hadn't shot her, more people would've died. I didn't seriously harm her—just a little nick to get her to lay off."

"Yeah. You're staying here," Dean confirmed. "Now out. The both of you."

Ariel begrudgingly got out and traipsed to the motel room with Sam and Dean. Dean unlocked the door and opened it. She and Sam walked through, both of them wearing unhappy expressions.

"What are we even supposed to do here, Dean?" Sam questioned.

"Nothing! Nothing. Come here. I don't want you doing _anything_. I want you to sit right here and don't move, ok? Don't turn on the light, don't turn off the light. Don't even scratch your nose. Ariel," Dean beckoned with her to come over to him. He kissed her on the lips and then on the forehead, "stop being grumpy."

He flashed her a heartwarming smile and a wink, and then he was gone. She sat in the chair opposite Sam, and they both stared at each other with blank eyes as they processed what had just happened. Sam's nose was twitching, and finally, he hesitantly reached up to scratch it.

"This isn't going to be fun," Ariel said, taking the liberty to speak. "However. You and I can discuss more options on how to get Dean out of his deal."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe it was a good thing that he left us here," Sam thoughtfully replied. "Though after this whole tumble with the Hoodoo curse, I think we should probably leave that Hoodoo priestess in New Orleans alone."

"New Orleans is full of shit that turns bad after a period of time, so yeah, that's probably not the best way to go." Ariel ran a hand through her hair. "Voodoo's not any better. I don't wanna mix with that shit."

"No matter what we mix with, it's most likely not going to be 100% good." Sam gave her a look, and she reluctantly nodded in agreement.

"I know. But in a perfect world, we wouldn't have to worry about that."

"Hell, in a perfect world, Dean wouldn't have made that deal," Sam retorted bitterly, his eyes darkening as the thought came over him. Ariel felt her mood beginning to cloud, too, and she leaned back in her chair, surveying the younger Winchester in front of her.

"In a perfect world, you wouldn't have died," she supplied. His hazel eyes met hers, and he carefully shrugged.

"I guess so," he answered. "There just _has_ to be a way out of this. He can't go to Hell—he doesn't _deserve_ to go to Hell."

"We just have to dig deeper. Swallow our pride and contact our enemies that we swore we'd never talk to again after they ditched you in the middle of a job to go out drinking with their friends and not answer their cell phone when you're calling them from inside a haunted house with no back up wondering where the hell they are," Ariel finished bitterly. Sam blinked, a blank expression on his face.

"That's never happened to me," he deadpanned. Ariel seemed to come back to Earth.

"Oh. Huh. Well, never mind then," she said. "But the point is that we're going to have to reach out to people we never thought we would."

"We can't do that now, though," Sam lamented.

"I know. Knowing our luck, our cell phones would burst into flames," she quipped. "Dean'll get Bela, though. Bela has sticky fingers, but Dean's a hunter, and he'll be able to outsmart her."

"You sure about that?"

"Well…that's what I hope."

* * *

Hours passed, and Ariel and Sam planned and strategized together about what they were going to do. For the most part, they were able to keep their bad luck at bay. One time Ariel stretched her leg out and nearly knocked over the table, but that was about the only real incident that they had.

Until the AC started smoking.

"—could be a trick, too," Sam said with a loud sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. At the ticking, knocking sound the AC was making, he stopped talking and looked over at it.

"What the hell kind of sound is that?" Ariel asked. Smoke started pouring out, and Sam leapt to his feet.

"Oh, come on. We—we weren't even—we didn't—" He cut himself off by grabbing the blanket off the bed and starting to put the fire out. He didn't even notice the flames on his sleeve until Ariel shouted his name. Jumping, he grabbed the curtains and started batting at the flames. And of course, with his luck, the curtain ripped and fell to the ground, revealing two male faces outside staring in at them.

"What the fuck?" Ariel hissed. Sam jolted backwards, knocking his head hard against the floor and knocking out. Panic consumed her, and she stood up quickly as the men started in with the door. She knew that no matter how good of a hunter she was, she'd never be able to win in a fight against these guys; they would beat her in a second.

One of the men kicked the door in, and she drew her knife. _Please don't cut yourself, please don't cut yourself_, she repeated over and over in her head. _Dean, hurry the fuck up. _

They stepped into the room, wide smiles on their faces as they saw her.

"Hello, sweetheart," one greeted. She didn't recognize either of them, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two men. A perplexed frown flashed across her face, but she kept her confusions hidden as she stared them down.

"Who are you?" she growled.

"Think fast," the man said, and he chucked something at her. Before she could react, it'd hit her hard across the temple, and she was losing consciousness. Darkness clouded her vision.

* * *

Everything was fuzzy, and her head hurt. She could smell sweat and alcohol, and she wasn't sure where it was coming from. Even in her barely conscious state, Ariel could tell that it wasn't coming from herself. Blearily, she blinked her eyes several times and found that she was duct taped to a chair. Her awareness rushed back to her, suddenly remembering the two men and Sam as she wildly whipped her head around and found them next to her.

"Gordon? Oh, come on!" Sam spat angrily. She frowned at the name. Gordon. She knew a hunter named Gordon; surely, Sam wasn't talking about the same Gordon. She didn't know what the conversation was about, but she could tell from the look on Sam's face that he didn't associate happy feelings with this Gordon he was referring to. The unfamiliar man who'd knocked her out earlier noticed her whipping around in her spot and smiled at her. He looked like he'd had too much Botox.

"Sleeping Beauty's awake!" he chirped. "I hope I didn't hit you _too_ hard with that bottle."

"You hit me with a bottle? Fuck you!" she snapped, her navy blue eyes blazing with fury.

"Don't be mad, sweetheart. You didn't miss too much of the party. Sam and I were just talking about how Gordon Walker asked me to track him down and put a bullet in his brain," Botox said sweetly. Her eyes widened in surprise then. So she'd been right; Sam had been referring to the hunter Gordon.

"What? No. No, that's gotta be wrong," she mumbled. "Gordon Walker? He's a good man."

"Nope, that sounds like him," Sam muttered blandly from his confined chair, tossing her a glance.

"I _used_ to think that Gordon was the one who asked me to do this. But, as it turns out, I'm on a mission from God." Botox smiled serenely at her. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"What? Dude, whoever you are, you're fucking crazy. God doesn't exist," she said with a snort. He frowned for the first time, studying her face.

"You don't believe in God?" he asked her.

"Uh, no. Any hunter worth her salt doesn't," she retorted sharply. "If you think you're on a mission from God, you belong on the funny farm."

"Ariel, you're so angry. So very, very angry," Botox said softly as he drank in the sight of her. She wished she didn't have bad luck so she could beat the shit out of him, but she held her steady gaze on him. Without any warning, he turned and slapped Sam hard across the face. She suppressed the gasp that threatened to leave her throat, swallowing it down hard.

"Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing?!" she shouted as the anger continued to build up in her chest.

"Pipe down, honey," the other man chimed in. She nicknamed him in her head as Goatee.

"Fuck you," she snapped. She was answered with a violent slap from Botox. A hot pain stung the entire right side of her cheek, and she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth to stomach the cry that begged for a release. She held her head still, and then she slowly turned to look at Botox, a lethal glare in her eyes.

"Watch your mouth, Ariel," Botox clucked. "I know what you and the Winchesters are. Especially this one." He gestured towards Sam. Before she could speak, he landed a punch, hitting Sam on the cheekbone. Ariel watched Botox punch Sam repeatedly, unable to move, unable to do anything but grit her teeth and bite her tongue.

"Get me a glass of water," Botox ordered Goatee. Goatee was obedient, fetching a glass of water within seconds. Without warning, he splashed it across Sam's face.

"What do you want from us?" Ariel shouted. Botox cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Don't make me bruise up your pretty face now," he warned. "You both were a part of that demon plan to open the gate, weren't you?"

"We did everything we could to stop it," Sam protested.

"Lie, lie, lie! You were in on it. You know what their next move is, too, don't you?" Botox growled.

"No, I don't, ok? You're wrong about all of this!" Sam exclaimed in anger.

"Where are they gonna strike us next?" Botox asked. Sam stared at the man, not saying anything. He was rewarded with another punch. Botox seemed to get an idea, and he backed away from the Winchester, a smile playing across his gross, thin lips.

"Why don't we change tactics, huh, Sam?" he asked, his voice pleasant. He crossed towards Ariel. Ariel's heart began racing as he drew closer and closer to her. She watched in horror as he stretched his hand out and ran it down her cheek, a slight sheen of sweat sticking to her face, trailing behind his fingers.

"You tell me where the demons are striking next, and Ariel here doesn't get hurt," Botox suggested, as though his suggestion were 100% reasonable. Sam's hazel eyes widened in shock and disgust, and he shook his head wildly.

"I don't know!" he shouted, the panic in his voice rising. Ariel's head whipped to the side as Botox's fist collided with her nose. The pain was blinding, and she couldn't stop her eyes from watering, the liquid flowing freely down her face. She struggled to keep her eyes clear as the pain threatened to blur her vision.

"WHERE?!" Botox screamed. "Gordon told me about you, Sam. About your powers. You're some kinda weird psychic freak?"

"No, not anymore. I—no powers, no visions, nothing—"

"LIAR!" Botox cried, and he punched Ariel across the face again. More hot pain rushed to her cheek, and she registered the feeling of blood dripping down her nose and into her mouth as she fought to draw oxygen into her lungs. Her eyes met Sam's, and she saw her own pain reflected in his regretful gaze.

"Now no more lies," Botox hissed. "There's an army of demons out there pushing at a world already on the brink. We're on deck for the endgame here, right? So maybe, just maybe you can understand…" He paused, seeming to think for a moment, and then he drew his gun. "…why we can't take chances."

Ariel's heart stilled, and she swore there was dead silence in the room as the gun was pointed at Sam.

"Whoa, ok, ok, no, do—hold on a minute!" Sam shouted.

"Hey, Kubrick, just—" Goatee started to stand up until Botox—whose name was apparently Kubrick, Ariel gathered—cut him off.

"No, you saw what happened, Creedy. Ask yourself, why are we here? Because you saw a picture on the web? Because we chose this motel instead of another? Luck like that doesn't just happen."

"Look, this isn't Sam's fault! He didn't—"

"Shut up!" Kubrick shouted at Ariel. "It's God, Creedy. He led us here for one reason. To do His work. This…is destiny."

He pulled the safety off the pistol, and he pointed the pistol point-blank at Sam's forehead. Then he seemed to change his mind, and he pointed it towards Ariel's. She was paralyzed with fear as she stared up at the nutcase in front of her. Humans were far more terrifying than monsters, she realized as she sat there as the target of his gun.

"Whoa. Nope. No destiny. Just a rabbit's foot." Dean suddenly stepped forward, his own gun up and ready to be fired. He had fire in his green eyes, and he didn't look as though he were in the mood to fuck around. Ariel exhaled quietly through her mouth as her eyes stayed glued on him.

"Put the gun down, son, or you're gonna be scraping brain off the wall," Kubrick threatened.

"Oh, this thing?" Dean asked casually. His tone was so casual that Ariel knew something was off.

"Yeah, that thing," Kubrick clarified. Dean shrugged.

"Ok. But there's something about me that you don't know," he said, his tone still carrying that nonchalant attitude. He set the gun down and glanced smugly at the nutjob in front of him. Ariel watched him pick up a pen, and she frowned, exchanging a glance with Sam, who looked just as confused as she did.

"Yeah? What would that be?" Kubrick asked, sounding almost amused by the little boy taunting him.

"It's my lucky day," Dean announced, and he threw the pen, grinning as it landed in the barrel of Kubrick's gun. Ariel's eyes widened, and her mouth actually dropped as she saw it make its mark.

"Oh my God! Did you see that shot?" Dean delightedly crowed. Creedy lunged at Dean, but the older Winchester simply sidestepped it and watched the idiot run into a wall and fall backwards onto the floor. Kubrick was distracted by the pen in the barrel of his gun, and he tried to pull it out, failing miserably.

"I'm amazing," Dean said, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. He picked up the remote and threw it at Kubrick. Ariel watched in amazement as the remote hit the man right between his eyes, not taking her eyes off of him as he keeled over backwards like a stone statue falling to the ground. Dean held the pose he'd ended in from throwing the remote, and he looked at Sam and Ariel with an impressed-with-himself look.

"I'm Batman," he whispered suavely and dramatically.

"Yeah. You're Batman," Sam retorted sarcastically. "So, uh, Batman, wanna help us out of this duct tape?"

"Why do you always have to ruin my fun, Sammy?" Dean exhaled. He quickly crossed to Sam, and with his good luck, had him unwrapped in seconds. Once he was done with Sam and saw that Sam was ok, he rushed to Ariel, kneeling by her side and releasing her from her duct tape bindings. As soon as she was free, his hands were on her face, her hair, her shoulders.

"Jesus, Ar, I didn't realize how bad he hurt you," he said in horror as he tried to push her hair out of her face. "Sam, get me wet paper towels. I swear to God I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch."

"I'm ok," Ariel replied. "I can't feel my nose anymore." Her voice was thick with blood and pain, and she tried to smile at him, gasping when she realized that she couldn't smile more than a centimeter without excruciating pain stabbing her in the face.

"You're not ok," Dean snapped. Sam handed him wet paper towels, and Dean began to clean her face off. She was surprised at how gentle his touch was; she could tell that he was consciously being extra careful with her, almost too careful. His hands were tender as one stabilized her head, and the other wiped the blood away from her features.

"I am _too_ ok," she insisted. "How'd you get the slip on Bela, by the way?"

"Good old fashioned burglaring," he replied with a wink. "Way to change the subject."

"I'm fine. I really am. Dean, I've been hunting for a while. Maybe not as long as you have been, but I've gotten my fair share of wounds, and this is nothing. It's nowhere near as serious as my stab wound even was," she protested. "Can we just destroy the damn thing now? I'd like to be able to, you know, move around without fear that I'm gonna die."

He grinned beautifully at her. "That's my girl."

* * *

Dean was incredibly, incredibly pleased with himself as he added up how much money he'd won with all the lottery tickets he'd been scratching off. He glanced over at Sam and Ariel who were pulling the spell together to destroy the foot; Ariel really was ok, though her face was swollen and bruised, and it looked like it'd be a while before her nose shrank back down to its natural size, but he knew she was ok as he watched her call off the ingredients to Sam.

"That should do it," Sam confirmed.

"One second…" Dean called as he continued to scratch another lottery ticket off. He heard Ariel's audible sigh.

"Dean, you—"

"Hey, back off, Jinx. I'm bringing home the bacon. I'm supporting us. I'm a good boyfriend," he replied with a smirk. Sam made a face.

"You're not _my_ boyfriend," he retorted. Ariel grinned, but Dean rolled his eyes. He smiled as he held up the last winning ticket and tucked it into the pocket of his jacket. It was slung over the top of a gravestone, and he patted the pocket for luck as he crossed towards Ariel and Sam to be rid of the foot once and for all.

"Alright, say goodbye wascawy wabbit," he intoned to the foot with a smirk on his sharp features. A sound of a gun being cocked snapped through the quiet air, and he turned around, his guard immediately rising.

"I think you'll find that belongs to me," Bela Talbot said smoothly. "Or, you know, whatever." She paused. "Put the foot down, honey."

Ariel felt anger stirring in the deep pit of her stomach as her eyes landed on the thief. She couldn't say that she had a very long hate list for humans, but Bela Talbot was definitely somewhere near the top of the list. She hated how damn good Bela's hair always seemed to look, too, she thought to herself as she noticed how perfectly styled it was, even as she held the three hunters at gunpoint.

As Bela scanned over the hunters, her eyes landed on Ariel, and she blinked, her face clearly showing surprise as she recognized the blonde hunter.

"Ariel Easton, I didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon," she smoothly intoned. "You cut your hair."

"Fuck you," Ariel snapped. Bela smiled slowly and sweetly.

"Oh, yes, you've always had a bit of a mouth on you. I forgot that. See, the only real memory I have of you is when you shot me," she replied, her voice oozing with sickening sweetness.

"You know that all kinds of people die because of you, right?" Ariel spat angrily, taking a step forward. Bela moved the gun from Dean onto Ariel.

"Dean, darling, drop the foot, or I'll shoot Miss Easton the way that she shot me," she said with a smile.

"No. You're not gonna shoot anybody," Dean protested. "See, I happen to be able to read people. Ok, you're a thief, fine, but you're not—"

Dean was interrupted by the sound of a gunshot and the sound of Sam letting out a cry. He whipped his head to the side to look at his brother who was now clutching his arm in pain.

"Son of a—"

"Back off, tiger. Back off. You make one more move, and I'll pull the trigger, and my target will be Ariel," Bela snapped. "You've got the luck, Dean. You, I can't hit. But Ariel? Her, I can't miss."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Dean exclaimed, his pitch high. "You don't just go around shooting people like that!"

"I told you she was a crazy bitch," Ariel said with a smirk. Bela moved closer, her gun still aimed at the blonde hunter.

"Don't think I won't hesitate to shoot you," she threatened in a dark voice. "I can't kill you, but I can do severe damage."

"Kiss my ass, Bela," Ariel retorted sharply. "You know that when you shoot me, I will not rest until I've killed you. You know that, right? You know I don't just say things like that, either. You've seen firsthand that I don't go back on my word."

Bela's gaze was unwavering as she stared Ariel down. Dean looked back and forth between the two, seeing a thousand words being exchanged but not understanding what was going on. Finally, Bela's eyes flicked back towards Dean, and she let out an irritable sigh.

"Relax about your brother. It's a shoulder hit. I can aim. Besides, who here hasn't shot a few people?" She tossed a pointed look towards Ariel, who was smiling sweetly back at her. "Put the rabbit's foot on the ground now."

"Alright! Alright. Take it easy," Dean grumbled unhappily, and he began to kneel down to the ground to lay the foot down. His movements were slow and controlled, sinking farther and farther down.

"Think fast," he suddenly said, and he threw the foot at her. Without thinking, Bela reached out and grabbed the foot. As soon as she realized what she'd done, her face contorted into a look of disgust, irritation, and anger. She took in a deep breath and slowly released it, glowering furiously at Dean.

"Damn!" she hissed. Dean grinned at her.

"Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?" he asked with a smirk. Bela huffed and reluctantly walked towards the three hunters, her eyes shooting daggers into Dean's skull as she drew closer. She waited in silence as Ariel got the fire going, all the while staring at her in anger and annoyance.

"Sucks to lose, doesn't it, Bela?" Ariel asked with a cheeky grin.

"You're nowhere near as clever as you think you are," Bela replied irritably and dropped the rabbit's foot into the fire. "Thanks very much. I'm out of one and a half million and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer."

"Maybe you shouldn't fuck people over," Ariel retorted with an eyeroll.

"Yeah, I really don't feel bad about that," Dean added. He turned towards his brother. "Sam?"

"Nope. Not even a little bit," the younger Winchester agreed, his face wincing at the pain in his shoulder. Dean put his arm around Ariel and tucked his hand into her back pocket. Bela noticed the affectionate gesture, and she lifted her perfectly plucked eyebrows, glancing back and forth between Dean and Ariel.

"Hmmm. Maybe next I'll hang you out to dry," she drily remarked.

"Oh, don't go away angry. Just go away," Dean pleasantly responded.

"Have a nice night, boys and girl," Bela said cheerfully, her eyes lingering over Ariel. "By the way, Ariel, I do love your hair shorter now. It suits you."

"I don't care, Bela," Ariel responded with a smile and a goodbye wave. She watched Bela walk off, and she rolled her eyes in disgust. "God, I still hate her."

"I don't doubt why you shot her. Why _did _you shoot her?" Dean asked, looking down at the blonde tucked beneath his arm. She waved her hand dismissively.

"Oh, this family was cursed by an Egyptian god, and they had to have this amulet on them for protection until I could figure out how to break the curse. Bela, of course, swooped in on the scene and stole the amulet. The husband and his sister were killed, but I shot her, and I got the amulet back, and the rest of the family didn't die," she said casually.

"She let people get killed by a curse just so she could make a profit. Doesn't surprise me," Dean sighed in agitation. "I don't get people like that."

Sam let out a tight groan, and Dean's eyes flicked over to his brother.

"You good?" Dean asked.

"I'll live," Sam diplomatically answered.

"I guess we're back to normal now, huh? No good luck, no bad luck," Ariel said. Dean snapped his fingers.

"Oh! I forgot, we're up to $46,000," he said with a side grin. "I almost forgot about the…scratch tickets."

He rummaged around in his jacket pocket, lifting it off the tombstone he'd rested it on. His hand met empty pocket, and he continued to dig around. A thought dawned on him, and he looked up in shock, thinking that the theory in his mind couldn't possibly be right. And at that moment, a car drove by and honked the horn, and Dean didn't need to verbalize who it was to know who the driver of that car was.

"Son of a bitch!" he shouted, his voice echoing into the night. Ariel's hands grabbed one of his arms, and she drew her near to him.

"Dean, it's fine," she said. "Bela's a dick, and she'll get what's coming to her. Come on, let's go back to the motel. I'm tired."

"I'm bleeding," Sam added. "Ar, would you stitch me up?"

"I'd be honored," Ariel answered dramatically. Dean shot his brother a look.

"What, you don't want me doing it?" he asked. Sam shrugged guiltily.

"Sometimes you're rough," he admitted. Dean scoffed.

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are."

"Yeah, well—_you're_ rough," Dean countered. Ariel tugged on his hand, leading him to the Impala.

"_Come on_," she insisted. "Sam, I'll stitch you up. And you…" She paused and stood on her tiptoes to kiss Dean softly on the lips. "…thank you for cleaning me up earlier."

Sam released a groan. "I'm gonna sit in the car if you two are pulling this shit again."

Ariel snickered as Sam slid into the front seat to wait for them. Dean was smiling down at her, his mouth and eyes soft and tender in the glow of the night. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he kissed her again.

"Thanks for not being dead," he remarked with a smirk. A pang of sadness crossed her eyes, and he realized what he'd said, and he started to backtrack, but she kissed him to silence him. She pulled back and rested the top of her head underneath his jaw, the rest of her face too painful and bruised to touch him, and she closed her eyes as she drew his scent into her lungs. Dean always smelled like motel soap, clean flannel, and sometimes a hint of sweat. Tonight he had that hint of sweat and even the remaining smells of a fire on his clothing, and she knew that if she tasted the tender flesh of his neck, she'd taste the fire lingering on the surface of his skin. Unable to resist, she lifted her mouth and kissed right below his ear, careful that her painful nose didn't make bump into any part of him.

"I want to be alone with you," she whispered into the space between his shoulder and neck. A chill ran down Dean's spine, and his hands ran up and down over her back.

"Not soon enough," he replied. As much as he didn't want to, he released his hold on her, taking her hand and walking her to the car where Sam was moaning and bitching about being tired and in pain. He shut the car door behind Ariel as she slid into the backseat. He hadn't missed the watery pain of her navy blue eyes as he'd shut the door. She'd looked away from him, purposely averting her gaze, but he'd seen the acute pain. He knew how she was feeling; he wouldn't be able to bear it if it were _her_ life on the line.

A tightness was in the back of his throat, and he swallowed as he realized something that he hadn't realized until he'd caught that look in her eyes: pain could be swallowed, but it never went away. Not really.


	17. Cougar

**Shoutouts to Blueskia, roxylove7, and tigereyekum for reviewing!**

**Ok, it seems that from what people have said, no one's losing interest yet, thankfully! I totally understand when life gets busy, and that makes it hard to keep up with things, but I just wanted to make sure that the lack of reviews meant that people weren't liking what was happening anymore.**

**What do you guys want more of? Do you want more private scenes with Ariel and Dean? Do you want some Fury action? More smut? More Bela and Ariel fights? Let me know =)**

**This chapter is a bit different, so please continue letting me know what you do and don't like!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 17

_She was hiding in a closet. If she scooted back just far enough, they couldn't find her, even if they'd opened the doors. Even though she was teased at school for being so little, she finally understood that she was lucky. Her size would be what saved her, what kept these things from finding her. The closet door opened, and she stopped breathing. Fallen clothes covered her, shielding her from the three pairs of eyes that searched the closet. Her lungs burned with the want for oxygen, but she didn't breathe. She just froze, unable to move even if she'd wanted to._

_Suddenly, the clothes pulled off of her, and she was faced with the things she was hiding from_.

"Ariel, we can find you in a dream. This isn't real life," the woman staring down at her said in a bored tone. Ariel gasped, finally drawing air into her lungs as she frantically gazed up at the woman. As she realized that she was, in fact, dreaming, she looked down and saw that she was her present-day self instead of being the 12 year old version that she thought she was. Her eyes shot warily back to the three women in front of her.

"Please, stop looking so nervous. We can't actually kill you when you're dreaming," the woman continued in that bored tone.

"Astra," Ariel said as she recognized her. Astra grinned.

"You remember me," she delightedly replied. "And you remember my sisters Sandrine and Deianira."

Ariel hesitantly pulled herself to her feet and stepped out of the closet, facing the three Furies in front of her. They all looked exactly as she remembered: professional. All three wore black pencil skirts and blazers and had their long dark hair pulled back into a French twist. The only physical difference between the three Furies was their eye color; Sandrine had blue eyes, Astra had brown eyes, and Deianira had piercing light blue eyes. As Ariel's own blue eyes scanned over them, she noticed that they looked like they hadn't aged a day.

"What do you want?" she asked in a low voice.

"Honestly, we want world peace," Deianira spoke up. "But since we can't get that, we want vengeance. And since we can't get _that_ when it comes to you, we want to talk."

"How'd you find me?" Ariel asked, her eyes continuing to dart back and forth between all three of them. Sandrine sighed.

"We _can't_ find you. But we can track your dreams," she said. "It's been a while since we've seen you, and we thought we'd say hello."

Ariel shook her head vehemently, but she kept her gaze cool and calm as she stared them down.

"Bullshit," she spat. "You don't just 'come say hello.' You're here for a reason."

"We always knew you were smart," Deianira said with a genuine smile across her tanned, pretty face. She tilted her head and crossed her arms, propping one elbow up on the opposite arm as she studied Ariel. "You killed one of our demons earlier tonight."

"One of…_your_ demons," Ariel slowly repeated as she tried to process what the Fury was saying. Deianira's blue eyes flashed with irritation, and she nodded.

"We keep in control of the Crossroads Demons, and it came to our attention that you used the Colt on one of them just a few hours ago," Astra said, a slight edge coming to her voice. "That got us very interested in why you were trying to deal with a Crossroads Demon."

"Since when have you been in charge of those assholes?" Ariel sputtered.

"Since your family had to pay. We knew at some point you'd be trying to deal to get someone back at some point in your life, so we own the Crossroads," Sandrine replied coolly. "Glad we invested when we did because you cracked and tried when Elliot died."

"When you _killed_ him," Ariel stiffly corrected. Sandrine gazed levelly back at her.

"Ariel, you really must hate us," she said softly, her tone quiet and almost surprised. "You think we killed your partner."

"Because you did!" Ariel sharply snapped. A hatred flashed across her eyes, and she was surprised to Sandrine step back as she realized that she was crossing a boundary.

"Ariel, no!" Astra insisted passionately, her brown eyes wide with hurt. "We didn't kill Elliot. We were carrying out what we have to do. Your father killed your partner. Not us. We only do what we're required to, and what we do is bring retribution. Your father was involved with something very, _very_ bad, and—"

"And to punish him you had to kill his entire family? That's so fucked up." Ariel's body was tense as she stared with hate in her eyes at the three women. "You killed my partner. You may think you're only following orders, but you're murderers. Who's going to punish _you_ at the end of the day?"

"It doesn't work that way," Sandrine answered calmly. "It's _our_ responsibility to punish those who do wrong. And your father was doing something—"

"I don't give half a shit about my father," Ariel interrupted in agitation. "What I _do_ give a shit about is my partner. And I give a shit about you three fuckers. Know why I care about you guys? Because I'm gonna kill you. I'm gonna be the one who punishes your sweet asses."

The Furies gaped in horror at her. Ariel pulled her knife out of the waistband of her jeans, but before she could move, she felt hands tightly grasping her shoulders, and she jerked awake, breathing hard and thrashing as she fought to get free.

"Ar! Ariel! Dammit!" Dean grunted as her hand collided with the sensitive skin under his eye. His curse of pain brought Ariel fully back to consciousness, and she instantly felt guilty for having hit him. In seconds, she had her arms around, wrapping her body around him and holding him against every inch of her. He felt her moving into him, and he took his hand away from his eye, blinking several watery blinks as he looked at her in surprise. He shifted accordingly so that he could draw her onto his lap.

"What were you dreaming about?" he asked as he encased her within his own arms. She wasn't terribly physically affectionate, so he took what he got when she gave it to him, but there was something different about the way that she held him this time; she was clinging to him, almost as if she were desperate to know that he was there with her. Her muscles were tight as she held him to her, her shoulders tense with fear or anxiety or whatever was coursing through her mind. Her blonde hair was in his face, but he didn't mind. He could smell the motel shampoo in it, and he knew that his own hair probably smelled just like it. She was quiet, her mouth pressing hard against his shoulder.

"Honey, what's wrong?" he pressed. Sam let out a sigh in his sleep, and Dean lowered his voice. "Are you ok?"

"The Furies," she whispered in his ear, also being conscious of Sam sleeping just a mere few feet away from them. "They came to me in my dream. They were talking to me."

"They what?" Dean whisper-hissed, pulling back from her. He looked in her eyes and found her calm blue eyes in the dark around them. "Son of a bitch. If they lay a hand on you—"

"They didn't. They can't touch me in a dream. Not in a way that'll kill me, anyway," she responded. The bare skin of her shoulder was centimeters away from his lips, and he kissed her firmly there. She exhaled slowly, closing her eyes as she relished the feel of his mouth on her skin. When she opened her eyes, he was staring intensely at her with his emerald green eyes. Unable to resist him, she hugged him close again and squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to memorize every curve, every line, every firm surface of his body. They'd only had sex a handful of times, a feat that was considered remarkable considering the small amount of time that they had together. They were in the heat of working job after job after job, and that meant sleeping in motels. Sleeping in motels meant sharing a room with Sam, and sharing a room with Sam meant they couldn't have sex.

The time that Sam had walked in on the two of them had been when he'd gone out for a burger run and then come back, only to see that they'd taken advantage of his time away. He'd been a saint by staying out in the car for a good long time, but he'd made the mistake of thinking that they were done when, well, they hadn't been.

Ariel's body craved a physical connection with Dean, and she pressed more closely against him. She wasn't even sure that she wanted sex just then; she just knew that she wanted him. She wanted him in all his beautiful physicality, in all his beautiful spirituality. But more than anything, she wanted to keep him alive and make him ok.

"Honey…" His voice trailed off as he realized that he wouldn't be able to say anything to comfort her the way she needed to be comforted. Instead, he pulled her tighter, feeling the toned length of her body against him. He tucked his head against her neck and tried to relax into her warmth.

She pulled back and lifted his head, holding it gently between her hands as she drew his mouth closer to hers to kiss him. When he pulled back and opened his eyes, he found her smiling at him, and he couldn't help but return her smile, particularly since he hadn't expected to find her wearing such an expression.

"What?" he whispered. Her index finger came to his cheekbones, and she traced his structure across the bridge of his nose to the other side of his face.

"You have freckles," she whispered back in an almost amazed tone. He gave her a grimace in the dark, but he nodded the slightest bit.

"I guess I do," he replied with a wry grin. The soothing feel of her finger across his skin made him want to close his eyes, but he fought the urge, and he kept his gaze steady on her. He could see thought racing behind her eyes as she scanned over his face, but she was wearing a small, small smile. There was a tenderness in her mouth that he rarely saw, but the more he saw it, the more he wanted to see it in the future.

One thing he could say about Ariel was that she always continued to surprise him. And so she surprised him as she leaned forward and kissed the freckles that were scattered over his cheekbones. He couldn't suppress the grin that spread widely over his mouth as he closed his eyes and accepted her kisses.

"I didn't know freckles were a deal-breaker," he said quietly with a laugh. He felt her mouth spread into a smile, and then her lips were on his. He eagerly swallowed the kiss and the sigh that passed between her lips and down his throat. Playfully, he twisted and pushed her onto her back so that he was over her, nestled between her thighs. His lips moved towards her jaw and down her neck, nipping at her collarbone. She gasped and rocked her hips against his aching erection.

"Sam," she whispered into his ear. He froze and jerked back, staring down at her with a shocked frown in his eyes.

"You did not just call me by my brother's name," he said in horror. She winced and shook her head.

"No, asshole. I'm pointing out that we're, um, not exactly alone," she responded and tilted her head in Sam's direction to remind Dean that, indeed, his younger brother was lightly snoring just feet away from them. Dean let out a quiet, frustrated groan, and he let his forehead fall against her bare, smooth shoulder.

"Shit," he sighed. "Well, at least you weren't moaning out my brother's name. I don't think I could live with that."

She nuzzled the short hair by his ear and giggled quietly as she ran her hands through his hair, breathing in the scent of him that she was so addicted to.

"No worries there. I only have eyes for you," she said. "Hey, what's your middle name?"

"Hmm?" Dean rolled off of her and onto his side in hopes of calming his raging erection. He pulled his mind off of the way her soft curves and firm muscles felt beneath him, and he adjusted his attention to the curiosity and brightness in her signature blue eyes.

"Your middle name," she repeated.

"Don't have one," he replied. Her light brown eyebrows lifted.

"No middle name? You poor deprived boy," she clucked.

"Fine then, hotshot. What's yours?" he retorted.

"Cecelia."

"Ariel Cecelia Easton. Gorgeous. Just like the woman."

"I'm a girl."

"Honey, Dean Winchester doesn't date girls. He dates _women_."

"Well, I only date guys who wear khakis." The look on her face was serious, and she watched Dean search her face in horrified questioning, his expression conveying that he clearly didn't know whether or not she were joking with him. Finally, she winked at him.

"I try to avoid looking like a douche," he snorted. She rolled her eyes, but she snuggled closer to him. He could always tell whenever she was getting sleepy by how she tucked her head into his shoulder or by the way she snuggled against him with her back to his front. And then, just like that, she was asleep.

Dean always marveled at how easily she could fall asleep. Literally, the girl could knock out anywhere and everywhere. When they'd all teamed up together, Dean had been a little afraid that she'd want to drive, but he'd been pleasantly met by her eagerness to either ride shotgun or in the back so she could sleep. He envied her ability to wake up after having had a nightmare and then, within minutes, go back to sleep as if nothing were wrong. She'd even been able to go to sleep after their little make out session, something that would keep Dean up all night.

He mentally sighed and then closed his eyes, hoping to get some sleep before the night was over. He wasn't expecting to get any kind of peace that night, but as he lost himself in the sweet unconsciousness that sleep provided, he was lost to the world.

* * *

It always seemed that there was tension between the three hunters, Dean bitterly thought to himself as he drove the Impala along down the road. Sam had beat Ariel out for shotgun, so he was sitting next to his brother while she was reading in the back. Dean was unable to understand her concentration; she was reading in the car. Hell, she was reading. Reading was something Dean liked to avoid. The tension with Ariel wasn't the problem because there _was_ no tension. For the past few days, Dean had been waiting for Sam to come around, but his younger brother still refused to say anything.

"So, I've been waiting since Maple Springs. You got something to tell me?" Dean asked suddenly. He didn't see Ariel pause in the middle of flipping the page of her book as she realized what Dean was asking Sam. She let some of her short hair hang in her face, and she glanced up discreetly through it to watch the scene take place.

"It's not your birthday," Sam dully answered. He was careful not to look back at Ariel.

"No," Dean sullenly agreed.

"…Happy Purim? Dude, I don't know. I have no idea what you're talking about—"

"There's a bullet missing from the Colt. You want to tell me how that happened? I know it wasn't me. I'm pretty sure it wasn't Ariel. So unless you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans…" Dean's voice slowed as he took a breath to continue his verbal assault.

"Dean…" Sam tiredly sighed from his position. He still didn't look back at Ariel, but he could feel her blue eyes nervously watching him. He'd told her that he was more than willing to take all of the blame for what had happened with the Crossroads Demon the other night, and he'd meant every word of it. Still, she felt guilty as she sat back and let Sam take the blame.

"You went after her, didn't you?" Dean furiously demanded. "The Crossroads Demon. After I told you not to."

"Yeah, well…"

"You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"I didn't."

"And you shot her."

Ariel couldn't take listening to Dean beat up Sam when it hadn't been Sam's fault. She slowly inhaled and exhaled, and then the words came spilling out of her mouth, unable to keep the secret in any longer. She knew she was blowing her cover, but she opened her mouth and spoke.

"Actually, I did," she calmly announced. A few seconds of silence passed in the car as Sam whipped around to incredulously stare at her for blowing their cover and as Dean blinked wildly, his green eyes darting into the rearview mirror to look at her.

"_You what_?" he asked. Impatiently, Ariel sighed.

"Look, I know you don't want to hear it, but I told you I'm not letting you go to Hell. Sam isn't gonna let you, either, so we kind of took on the Crossroads Demon the other night, and I got mad, and I shot her," she replied.

"Ariel—"

"Come on, Sam, I wasn't gonna sit back and let him ride you for it."

"Oh, so now I ride people?" Dean snapped.

"Dean—"

"You seriously shot the demon? _You shot her_?"

"She was a smartass!" Ariel defended. Sam nodded in agreement.

"She was," he said.

"So what? Does that mean I'm out of my deal?" Dean asked, his voice careful not to betray any hopefulness that he felt.

"Don't you think we might've mentioned that little fact, Dean? No. Someone else holds the contract," Sam reluctantly answered as he turned his face away from his brother to gaze out at the open road in front of them.

"Who?" Dean asked.

"The bitch wouldn't say," Ariel replied.

"Well, we should find out who. Of course, our best lead would be the Crossroads Demon. Oh, wait a minute…"

"That's not funny," she snapped in response to Dean who was looking pointedly at her in the mirror.

"No, it's not!" Dean snapped back. "It was a stupid freaking risk, and you shouldn't have done it! Besides, when the hell are you all in on this deal shit? I thought that was just Sam."

"I'm sorry, but are you forgetting about the part where I told you that I'm not letting you go to Hell, Dean? Sam and I have been working our asses off together to scrounge up any kind of help that we can get," Ariel retorted.

"Wait, you're saying that you and Sam have been working together, and you didn't fucking tell me?" Dean's green eyes were blazing with fury, and he pulled the Impala over to the side of the highway. He opened the driver's door and got out. With a plaintive glance at each other, Ariel and Sam got out as well. From Dean's body language, it was obvious that he was upset. His entire body was tight with anger, and he whirled around to face the both of them.

"How long have you been cavorting around behind my back?" he hissed. Ariel rolled her eyes.

"You're making it sound like Sam and I are sleeping together, and I can promise you that we're not," she bit back. "We've been researching all possible options since the Sins attacked us. Sam and I both thought that with the two of us making it obvious that we were looking for an out for you, it'd only make the fighting worse, so I kept quiet about my part in it."

"You and Sam both die if you try to fuck around with this!" Dean suddenly shouted. "When I die, you both have each other, and you both have Bobby. If you two die, I have no one."

"You have Bobby, too!" Ariel shouted back. "You have people who care about you, and you can't expect us to sit quietly and watch you get ripped to shreds by hellhounds if we can do something to stop it! Even if it _does_ mean that I have to walk the line a little bit!"

"Stay out of it!" Dean demanded, crossing closely to her. He shot a death glare Sam's way. "And _you_ stay out of it, too."

"Don't you _dare_ tell me what to do!" Ariel hissed, furiously staring at him, hurricanes whirling in her deep blue eyes. "I know what I'm doing, and I don't need you ordering me around like I'm some kid."

"I'm sorry, Dean, but I can't stay out of it," Sam interjected quietly. "You're my brother, Dean. And no matter what you do, I'm gonna try and save you. And I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, alright?"

"And if you expect an apology from me, you'll be waiting a long time," Ariel added. "I'm done with this conversation."

Dean watched as she turned back to the Impala in a rage and climbed into the backseat without even attempting to get shotgun before Sam did. Sam looked at him with dark eyes, and his lips pressed into a thin, firm line. He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but then he closed it and got into the car without saying anything. Dean wondered how it was that he had two people fighting tooth and nail to keep him from getting dragged to hell, but he still felt as though he were completely isolated from the people that cared for him the most.

Without even a sigh, he walked around and silently got into the Impala. No one said a word.

* * *

Ariel was thoroughly bored, even though she was entertained by the old woman she, Sam, and Dean were questioning flirting very obviously with Sam. She suppressed a laugh as she saw the younger Winchester shift uncomfortably as Gert's eyes traveled up and down his body. She looked over at Dean, and they made eye contact, the corners of his mouth twitching as he struggled to keep from laughing, too.

Even though the rest of the car ride had been painfully uncomfortable, they'd managed to get to their next job in one piece. Ariel was dressed in her typical black pencil skirt and black blazer over a fitted white blouse and all topped off with black heels as she played her part of official investigator. Her hair was down, but it was straight and even around her jaw as she maintained a professional but pleasant facial expression.

"Wait a minute," Gert said suddenly, a look of confusion crossing her face. "You're working with Alex, aren't you?"

Ariel's first instinct was to raise her eyebrows in surprise, but she fought the urge, instead keeping the pleasant, professional expression that she'd managed to maintain so far. In this respect, she was a lot like Dean. She didn't like interviewing the family members because they got weepy and emotional, and all she really wanted to do was stop the monster from killing more people. She was in this to save people, not comfort them whenever they got upset.

Yes, Ariel was more in touch with her emotions than the Winchester brothers, and she was often described as a "gentle" hunter—whatever that meant. Just because she wasn't driven by the fiery passion for revenge, she was labeled a gentle hunter, in her opinion. And just because she wasn't against opening herself up to feeling things didn't mean that she was supposed to like interviewing people.

"Yep. Absolutely," she spoke up before either Dean or Sam could find a way to ruin the connection with the old lady. Though really, as she watched Gert's eyes feast on Sam, she didn't think that anything any of them said could break the connection that the woman was feeling with the young man. "That's Alex and us. Just like this." She held up crossed fingers to demonstrate just how tight she and this Alex person were.

Gert's face melted into a pleased smile. "Why didn't you say so? Alex has been such a comfort. But I'm sorry. I thought the case was solved."

"Uh…well, no. No, not yet," Sam stammered as he tried to find a way to cover for Ariel's assertion that they were, indeed, working with Alex.

As Sam continued talking to the man-hungry old woman, Ariel's mind began drifting as she ran over possible solutions for this Alex person. Gert mentioned that Alex thought something about a ghost ship? Any mention of the paranormal meant that the person could be a hunter. So Alex could be a hunter. Ariel ran through all of her mental files for any hunters that she knew who used Alex as an alias. Nothing was ringing a bell.

She glanced over at Dean, and he frowned at her, showing that he wasn't getting anywhere on any of this either. She looked back at Sam and finally let herself grin as Gert was fondling Sam's hand as he quickly and eagerly told her that the three of them were on their way and would let her know if they found anything.

As soon as the door to the woman's house shut, Ariel began laughing.

"Shut up," Sam intoned. Dean clapped him on the back.

"You're a total ladykiller," he smirked. "Actually, if you had sex with her, she might not be able to keep up with you, and then you'd _really_ be a ladykiller."

"Ew, Dean, that's disgusting," Ariel responded, but she was laughing. She found herself moving closer to him. They hadn't had any kind of physical interaction since the incident on the side of the road where they'd all spilled out of the Impala to yell at each other, and she found herself missing it, something that was unusual for her since she wasn't all that touchy-feely.

"Dean, there's something called a line, and you stepped over that," Sam grumbled much to Dean's unappeasable delight.

"She's a crazy old broad," he said.

"Why? Because she believes in ghosts?" Sam retorted as he glanced at his brother.

Dean snickered again. "Look at you. Sticking up for your girlfriend. You cougar hound."

"Bite me," Sam deadpanned. Ariel squinted her eyes as she looked in the bright sky. There was water all around her as they walked along the docks away from strange, old Gert. Ariel had always loved being near the water, and she'd forgotten how much she'd missed it until just now.

"Hey, not if she bites you first," she responded to Sam, who rolled his hazel eyes in exasperation towards her. "So, who's this Alex? We got another player in town?"

"This is starting to become _way_ too familiar," Dean groaned as he gave Ariel a pointed look. "First, it was now, and now it's Alex. I swear—no one has any fucking hunting etiquette anymore."

"Hey—you saying you wish you hadn't run into me?" Ariel asked with lifted eyebrows.

"My life sure would be a lot easier," Dean answered with a grin, and she made a face at him. "But seriously, is this becoming a pattern? Because we're not teaming up with anyone else."

"Could be another hunter. I don't know. Doesn't change our job," Sam said.

"And what looked like a ghost ship, right?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. It's not the first one sighted around here either," Ariel replied. She was walking in between the two brothers, and she glanced up at Dean and then at Sam as she was again reminded how short she was. Dean towered over her enough, so she was always stunned to remember just how tall Sam actually was whenever she stood next to him.

"Really?" Dean asked in surprise.

"Yeah. Every 37 years, like clockwork, reports of a vanishing three-mast clipper ship out in the bay. And every 37 years, a rash of weirdo, dry-land drownings," she answered.

"So whatever's happening is just getting started," Sam concluded thoughtfully.

"What's the lore?" Dean questioned.

"Well, there are apparitions of old wrecks sighted all over the world. The _S.S. Violet, _the _Griffin_, the _Flying Dutchman_—almost all of them are death omens," Sam continued.

"So, what happens? You see the ship, and then a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?" Dean asked, his forehead wrinkled as he thought.

"Basically!" Ariel happily chirped, meriting a look from Dean.

"Someone's a little excited about death," he remarked.

"What's the next step?" she asked Sam, ignoring Dean.

"I gotta ID the boat," the tall Winchester responded. _Damn, he's like a tree_, Ariel thought to herself as she let her mind wander for the briefest second.

"That shouldn't be too hard. I mean, how many three-mast clipper ships have wrecked off the coast?" Dean asked as Sam laughed.

"I checked that, too, actually," he said. Ariel grimaced at Dean as she finished Sam's sentence.

"Over 150."

"Wow," Dean replied, his face showing that he was genuinely impressed. "Shit. Our job just got a lot more difficult."

"Understatement," Sam agreed. Dean went to respond to his brother when he slowed to a stop in front of an empty parking spot. Wracking his brain, he was sure that this was where he'd parked the Impala. He turned to look at Ariel for back up and found her frowning as well.

"This is where I parked the car, right?" he asked.

"I thought so," Ariel answered, her blue eyes scanning down the row of the parking lot just to see if she'd gotten disoriented and thought that they'd parked the car here when it was actually elsewhere.

"Where's my car?" Dean demanded. He walked into the middle of the empty spot and stood still with his arms out as he stared all around him, as if the car might magically appear.

"Did you feed the meter?" Sam asked behind him. Panic began to well up from the pits of Dean's stomach as he realized with paralyzing horror that his car was gone.

"Yes, I fed the meter! Sam, where's my car? Somebody STOLE MY CAR?!" His voice rose into a shout. He crossed back to where Sam and Ariel stood, fury written across his face. He'd never experienced the kind of panic, rage, and fear that he felt in that moment. Sure, he'd been panicked, enraged, and terrified when Sam had died, but this was a different kind of emotional combination than that.

"Hey, hey, hey! Breathe, Dean," Ariel said, crossing towards him. "Bre—"

"I am breathing! Somebody stole my ca—" He cut himself off as he bent over to grab his knees, gasping for oxygen. His heart was racing, thudding around inside his ribcage to the point where it felt more like he had a racehorse in his chest than an actual muscle that was keeping him alive with each pump.

"Whoa, Dean, hey! Sam!" Ariel called as she watched Dean begin to hyperventilate. She looked at Sam in a panic, and he rushed over to them, panic and concern in his eyes as he saw his older brother freaking out.

"Dean? Dean, take it easy," he said, attempting a soothing tone. Ariel placed her hand on his back, and she bent over so that she was on the same level as he was.

"Dean? Dean, baby, it's ok. You're ok. Your car is—"

"The '67 Impala? That was yours?" A sickeningly too familiar voice interrupted Ariel, and she froze in her mollifying motions as she realized who was behind her.

"Bela," Sam groaned.

"I'm sorry. I had that car towed," Bela Talbot answered with a smug smile as she stood in front of the three hunters, her face looking as though she felt sorry for them while simultaneously laughing at them. Ariel couldn't help but notice that Bela still looked like she was about to step out on the red carpet, and it only made her hate the thief even more.

"You what?!" Dean snapped. Bela innocently blinked, looking mildly confused because the answer was obvious.

"Well, it was in a tow away zone," she explained.

"No, it wasn't!" Dean protested in a baffled voice.

"It was when I finished with it," Bela answered, leaning in as if she were revealing a secret that only the four of them could know about. Ariel ran an indignant hand through her short blonde hair.

"What the fuck are you even doing here?" she snapped.

"A little yachting," Bela flippantly replied, her eyes glancing around her.

"You're Alex. You're working with that old lady," Ariel asked as realization dawned on her.

"Gert's a dear old friend," Bela explained, her eyes gluing onto the blonde hunter.

"Yeah, right. What's your angle?" Ariel spat.

"There's no angle." Bela shrugged. "There's a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform séances so they can commune with their dead cats."

"And let me guess, it's all a con. None of it's real," Dean sighed.

"The comfort I provide them is _very_ real," Bela calmly insisted, her eyes shifting over to Dean and settling there. Her eyes drifted a little lower, and she smiled, an extra gleam in her eye. Ariel knew exactly what Bela was doing, and she folded her arms so that she didn't go nuts and punch the woman right there.

"How do you sleep at night?" Sam asked in a disgusted tone.

"On silk sheets, rolling naked in money," Bela replied without a missing a beat. "Really, Sam. I'd expect the attitude from him and his little girl, but you?"

"You _shot_ me!" Sam reminded her.

She scoffed. "I barely grazed you." She turned her gaze over to Ariel. "Cute. But a bit of a drama queen, yeah?"

Ariel ignored her. "You do know what's going on around here. This ghost ship thing—it _is_ real."

"I'm aware. Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved, by the way." Bela's eyes flashed with disgruntlement.

"It isn't," Dean insisted.

"She didn't know that. Now the old bag's stopped payment, and she's demanding real answers. Look…just stay out of my way before you cause any more trouble. I'd get to that car if I were you…before they find the arsenal in the trunk." Bela turned around and began walking away. "Ciao!"

"Can I shoot her?" Dean asked Ariel, his eyes stuck on the back of Bela's head.

"Not in public," she replied. "Trust me, I'm thinking of all the ways I could skin her alive."

"At least she didn't shoot you," Sam added. Ariel snorted.

"Not for lack of trying."

"She tried to shoot you?" Dean asked, frowning even more deeply as he looked at the small blonde woman beside him. She nodded casually and then shrugged when she saw the aporetic look on Dean's face.

"What? She tried to shoot me because I was in the way, and I just so happened to shoot her first. I can be a bit trigger happy when people's lives are at risk," she protested. Dean shrugged in response.

"I mean, I ain't judgin'," he said. "Now let's go get my car before they do some shit to it."

"Fuck all of this," Ariel bemoaned. "The last thing we needed was Bela's involvement, and now she's just making it more difficult for all of us. Besides, I _really_ resent the way she looks at you, Dean."

"At me?" Dean repeated.

"Yeah, she always looks at you like she's gonna eat you up. And not in the bad way that I usually associate with Bela. I mean, she looks like she wants to get you naked and—"

"Why are we always talking about Dean naked?" Sam interrupted with a plaintive gaze towards the clouds in the sky. "I can't ever escape it. I've actually been doomed to this life."

"Well, Bela was right about one thing: Sam's a drama queen," Dean quipped. "But Ar, trust me, I'm not looking back. I'm plotting the way I'm gonna kill her."

"Step in line," Ariel answered with a grin. She watched his smile light up his face, and her heart melted as his eyes met hers. He pulled out his phone to figure out where his car had gone, and she took a step back from him to wait. She hadn't ever expected to feel this connection with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester. She remembered back to the first night she'd met up with him; she'd thought even then that she would never start something serious with him if he were the last person on Earth.

And here she was. Melting into puddles whenever Dean smiled at her with that big, wide grin of his; life was funny, and it sure loved to prove her wrong. Dean had wormed his way into her heart, whether or not he knew it, and she was not going to let him rip himself out when the hellhounds came to rip him to pieces. She wasn't going to give him up that easily.

Ariel Easton didn't believe in failure, and she wasn't about to start now.


	18. Glory

**Shoutouts to roxylove7, Deirdreadire, and Melinda for reviewing!** **Y'all give me the sweetest reviews!**

**Oh gawd, this is a really long chapter. By the way, do you guys like long chapters? Do you want them shorter? I'm trying to put each episode I write into two chapters while also including personal moments with Dean and Ariel, so they wind up being lengthy. Let me know if you like that or not.**

**Here we go! Please leave reviews!**

**Enjoy =)**

* * *

Chapter 18

So far, all that the night had brought them was another victim. Dean had gotten his beloved Impala back before the tow company had gotten a chance to open the trunk and see all the weapons and strange occult symbols on the inside of the trunk. After that, the three hunters had spent the night in the typical rundown motel as they researched, only leaving to get dinner at a delicious little bistro in the middle of town.

Dean wondered if that was what normal couples did; did they go visit little fishing towns and eat at bistros together, laughing and enjoying each other's company? He'd spent the evening looking at Ariel and wondering how differently his life would be if he'd met her under different circumstances. What would they be to each other if they weren't hunters? As much as he hated to admit it, Ariel's knowledge and skill as a hunter was one of the things that attracted him to her. She knew her way around a gun, she could knife anyone with ease, and she knew hand-to-hand combat just as well as he and Sam did. He loved that she was tough and didn't need anyone to protect her. He also loved that she tried to avoid her flannels and Timberlands as much as she could, always preferring to wear light cardigans over loose shirts with either sandals or riding boots. She was as feminine as she was tough.

And so he'd chosen for a night to pretend that they were just another couple who was vacationing in the small fishing town. Even though Sam was there with them, too, but whatever, that was only a minor detail in Dean's imagination. For the first time in a long time, Dean had fallen asleep quickly and soundly, sleeping most of the night.

And then he'd had to wake up and learn that someone else had drowned without being near any kind of water the night before.

He, Sam, and Ariel were loading their guns from the trunk of the Impala. Ariel was angrily sputtering about Bela having been on the scene of the crime posing as a reporter, loading with a furious quality to her movements. Sam looked just as agitated and unhappy as Ariel did.

"I'm currently picturing dropping her into a hot boiling pot of water," he carped.

"I see you got your car back," Bela announced from behind them. Dean watched Ariel close her eyes and visibly force herself to be calm.

"Speak of the devil," she said out loud and turned around to look at the brunette woman. "Do you ever get tired of being you, Bela?"

"Oh, Ariel, so concerned with everyone's welfare." Bela condescendingly smiled at her.

"You really wanna come near me when I got a loaded gun in my hands?" Dean questioned, scowling heavily at the English thief.

"Now, now, mind your blood pressure. Why are you even still here? You have enough to ID the boat," she replied.

"That guy back there saw the ship," Sam interjected.

"Yeah? And?" Bela looked as though she genuinely didn't understand why Sam, Ariel, and Dean would be concerned.

"And, he's going to die, so we have to save him," Ariel impatiently explained. Bela continued to stare at the blond hunter, her green eyes glazed over with boredom and the lack of comprehending why the three hunters were still around.

"How sweet," she cooed.

"This is why I hate you," Ariel suddenly snapped. "You don't give a shit about anyone but yourself, even if that means other people have to die. Do you realize how fucked up you are?"

"Easy there, kitty cat," Bela intoned, glancing away from Ariel as if she couldn't be bothered to look at her.

"You think this is funny?" Dean demanded.

"The man's cannon fodder. He can't be saved in time, and you know it," Bela dismissively replied. Dean glanced at Sam and saw his brother shaking his head in disgust. Ariel was fuming beside him, and he placed his hand on her shoulder to calm her down, taking the initiative in trying to get Bela to scram.

"Yeah, well, see, _we_ have souls…so we're gonna try," he answered. He turned and began walking towards the driver's seat of the Impala while Ariel and Sam both raced to get shotgun. Against Sam's better judgment, he let Ariel win because he knew she was going to be in a foul mood after this confrontation with Bela. He'd seen Ariel in action a lot over the past month or so that she'd been with him and Dean, but he'd never seen anything put her in a worse mood than Bela Talbot did.

"Yeah, well, I'm actually going to find the ship and put an end to this. But you have fun," Bela said with a tilt of her head, gazing directly at Dean as she spoke. All three hunters paused before they got into the car as they studied the woman who was, in turn, studying them.

"Hey, Bela, how'd you get like this, huh?" Dean asked, suddenly crossing over to her. The action surprised her, though only a flicker of it showed across her pixie-like face. "What, Daddy not give you enough hugs or something?"

"I don't know." An odd expression had crossed Bela's eyes which made Ariel scrutinize her face even more closely. Something about it intrigued Ariel, and she knew that Dean had hit a nerve. "_Your_ daddy give you enough?" Her eyes landed on Ariel, and they narrowed. "Let's not even talk about _your_ daddy. Don't you dare look down your nose at me. You're no better than I am."

"We help people," Dean said, drawing Bela's attention back to him.

She scoffed. "Come on. You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're a stone's throw from being a serial killer. Whereas I, on the other hand, I get paid to do a job, and I do it. So, you tell me—which is healthier?"

"Hold up, Bela," Ariel calmly said. She folded her arms across her chest as she stared at Bela with an oddly serene look on her face that neither Dean nor Sam would've expected from her, considering how much she hated Bela. "You know I'm not in this for revenge. Why would I be? Look at my family. I'm not a hunter to avenge my father or my brother. I'm not even in this to avenge Elliot; besides, I started hunting before Elliot and I were partners, so that doesn't even fit. I'm a hunter because I don't want people to die. Simple as that. You're a thief because you're looking out just for yourself. Don't group me in with people like you."

"You're telling me that you're not in this to avenge that precious brother of yours?" Bela snapped back. Ariel shook her head firmly.

"No. I'm not. Revenge isn't my style. Killing monsters because they killed Scott isn't going to make him any less dead. It won't make Elliot any less dead." She turned before Bela could respond, shutting the car door behind her with a resounding snap. Dean paused, and then he looked up at Bela, seeing her shocked expression. For the first time, she looked really rattled, and it was because of Ariel. Dean inwardly smirked as he realized that he wasn't the only one to be so affected by the small hunter.

"Bela, why don't you just leave?" Sam sighed with a tired kind of finality in his tone. "We've got work to do."

"Yeah. You're 0 for 2. Bang up job so far," she retorted, but she didn't say anything else. She turned and walked away, trying to ignore the stares of the Winchester brothers as she moved one step farther and farther away from them.

Dean glanced through the back window of the Impala to see if Ariel was watching, but she had her head resting against her hand as she held her gaze straight out through the windshield. He looked toward Sam and exchanged a look with him.

"Think she's ok?" Sam asked with a worried frown, his voice quiet so that Ariel couldn't hear through the glass. Dean paused, glancing back towards her through the window and then shook his head and shrugged, truly at a loss.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Give me a few to talk to her?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course. I'll be out here," Sam replied and leaned against the back portion of the car. Dean moved towards the front and ducked into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. Ariel was calmly still, a quality that he didn't always associate with the restless hunter unless she was sleeping.

"Hey, you ok?" he asked. She gave a small smile and nodded, her eyes sweeping over to him.

"Yeah. She just gets under my skin," she answered.

"What'd you mean by all that stuff you said to her about your family?" he asked cautiously. He expected her to freak out or shut down on him, and he prepared for a biting verbal remark. Instead, she continued to smile at him, and she let out a sigh as she shook her head.

"Bela gets under my skin so much because she knows all about my family," she said wearily. "My dad wasn't a good guy. He was a hunter, but he was…he was detached from the rest of us. He wasn't there a lot of the time, and when he was, he wasn't _there_ there. He might not have been a regular hunter like we are, but he was definitely always working. And my mom didn't know how to handle my brother and me, so she just didn't. Scott and I looked out for each other, and that was my family life." She shrugged at the end of it. Dean was quiet. Sometimes when it came to the pain that family caused, words couldn't take away that hurt. So he didn't try. But he did reach out and hug her. He let her lean into him, breathing slowly and steadily, and he kissed the top of her head.

"You're ok," he said quietly. She pulled back and brightly laughed, a sound that was literally music to his ears.

"No," she said smiling. "_You _are. You're going to be ok."

"Hey, I'm still mad at you," Dean warned, but she shook her head.

"No. You're going to be ok." She kissed him quickly on the mouth before he could say anything, and she knocked on the window to let Sam know that all was clear. The overly tall Winchester ducked into the backseat without uttering a single complaint about how his legs were too long to be back there.

* * *

_Well, the day was productive, but last night sure as hell wasn't_, Ariel thought bitterly as she sank into the ragged couch of the house they were squatting in. She, Dean, and Sam had failed to save the man who'd seen the ship, and it'd left a bitter taste in all their mouths. This was the part about hunting that Ariel hated the most; sure, she hated that she couldn't have a normal, ignorant life—she would _never_ be able to have a normal ignorant life, but what she hated most of all was failing to save people. That was the most important thing in the world when it came to the job.

She'd been 100% honest when she'd told Bela that she wasn't a hunter for vengeance. If she hunted for vengeance, she would never, ever be able to live with herself or have any kind of peace of mind, and that was something she'd witnessed first hand. Throughout her years as a hunter, she'd seen many hunters who were in it to avenge dead loved ones, and they were never able to rest. It was funny for her to look back on her decision to become a hunter. It hadn't been a conscious decision. She'd just been transported to Bobby's, and she'd told him very evenly and calmly that she wanted to be a hunter, and he hadn't questioned it.

But as she'd hunted over the years, she'd come to realize that she hunted because she didn't want people to die the way her family had. Not that she really had that many fond feelings for her family aside from her brother. But the thought of people losing those that they loved because of something she could prevent? It just wasn't an option for her.

So to say that she was feeling low as she lay on her back staring up at the dusty ceiling was a bit of an understatement. Sam had summed up her feelings entirely in the car on the way back: "It's just lately, I feel like I can't save anybody." Her eyes drifted over to Dean. His broad, strong back was to her as he splashed his face with some water. Out of everyone she'd ever wanted to save, she never wanted to save anyone as much as she wanted to save Dean.

Sam caught her looking at his brother, and he couldn't help the sorrowful pang that hit his heart. He'd seen the changes that had taken place in his brother ever since they'd met Ariel, and those changes had been nothing but good. Ariel made Dean more patient, more caring, more…everything. Sam couldn't even put his finger on it. He'd lived with his brother for years, and he'd never known Dean to be so tender and, well, for lack of a better word, _romantic_ with a girl before. The Dean that he was familiar with didn't know what the word romance meant; that Dean thought it was strange to sleep with the same girl more than three times. And here he was with Ariel, his eyes soft as he looked at her, endearments slipping loosely from his lips, and large hands that offered her gentle caresses. Dean was a completely different human being.

Ariel looked over at him, and she blinked, as if she were seeing right through him. Then she smiled, looking almost embarrassed to have been caught watching Dean as he cooled down after the disappointing afternoon they'd had.

"I was just thinking…we don't know that much about you," Sam said thoughtfully. She grinned brightly at him, and Dean peeked around the corner from the bathroom as he wiped his face dry.

"Oh, I know a lot of intimate details," he quipped cheerfully. Sam gave him a bored stare.

"Dude," he said. Dean shrugged.

"I do," he defended himself, coming out and sitting on the edge of the couch that Ariel was on.

"Well, Bobby practically raised me, and here I am," Ariel supplied with a shrug. "My favorite colors are green and purple, I love cats, and I'm not a morning person."

"What was growing up with Bobby like? I mean, year round. Sammy and I got our share of it as it was," Dean asked, turning around to look at her. She made a face.

"I feel like I'm being interrogated." She sat up as she thought, gazing up towards the ceiling as if the ceiling could give her answers. "It was good. Great. He taught me most everything I know about hunting, and he understood that that was my priority, but he also encouraged me to do well in school."

"Did you?" Dean asked.

"Did I what?"

"Do well in school?"

"Valedictorian," she replied with a smug grin. Dean lifted his eyebrows in surprise and let out a low whistle. Sam beamed at her.

"Were you planning on going to college?" he asked, ignoring the look that Dean gave him for his question. Ariel shook her head quickly.

"No. Hunting was always what I was gonna do," she said. "As soon as I was out of high school, I was a hunter. It pissed Bobby off since he wanted me to go to school and have a normal life, but…I always would've found my way back to this."

A knock at the door interrupted them. All three hunters exchanged a suspicious look, Dean slowly easing to a standing position to go to the door. He opened the small window in it to peer out. Ariel waited, the anticipation high as she watched him turn around and give her and Sam a look that only meant one thing: Bela. She sighed out right as Dean unlocked the door and opened it to usher Bela in.

And in Bela did come. She was dressed in heels and a professional navy blue suit, hair done perfectly as usual. Her light colored eyes took in the room, and she was smiling, as though something were greatly amusing her. She looked at Ariel, and Ariel evenly gazed back.

"Dear…God. Are you actually squatting? Charming. So how'd things go last night with Peter?" Bela asked, even though it was obvious that she knew _exactly_ how they'd failed the night before.

"Fuck off, Bela," Ariel sighed from the couch, standing and folding her arms across her chest in a defiant gesture. Bela seemed undeterred by Ariel's suggestion about what to do with herself, and she continued to smile.

"That well, huh?" she asked.

"If you say 'I told you so,' I swear to God I'm gonna start swinging," Dean gruffly threatened.

"Look, I think the four of us should have a heart to heart," the dark-haired thief replied after a brief pause as she considered Dean. Again, Ariel wanted to empty her gun into the woman for the way she looked at him. She caught Sam's eye, and he very subtly shook his head no. She sighed.

"That's assuming that you have a heart," Dean said and walked past her towards Sam and Ariel. He dropped into a chair between Sam and Ariel. His eyes glanced upwards as he caught Ariel crossing behind Sam and sitting in the chair beside him. She looked pissed, and as usual when it came to Bela Talbot, he didn't blame her.

"Dean, please…I'm sorry about what I said before, ok? I come bearing gifts," Bela impatiently answered. Ariel very obviously rolled her eyes at the precise enunciation of "gifts." _Always so posh_, she bitterly thought as she fiercely gazed at Bela.

"Such as?" she intoned in a flat monotone.

"I've ID'd the ship," Bela nonchalantly answered, unzipping the portfolio in her hands without once taking her eyes off of the blonde hunter. Ariel's eyes widened in surprise, but then she frowned.

"Why are you helping us?" she asked. Bela looked at her but didn't say anything; she didn't need to. The look in her eyes said a thousand words that she would never verbalize to Ariel, and Ariel understood in that passing moment all the reasons that Bela was the way she was and why she was agreeing to help them. But Ariel was still wary of her; Bela didn't just do nice things because she felt bad for being a bitch. There had to be some ulterior motive, and Ariel was on her guard.

"Alright, now we're getting somewhere," Dean remarked. "Give us the goods."

Bela set the portfolio down on the table and opened it. There was a picture of a ship on top, and she picked it up, handing it to Dean. Ariel stood up and put one knee on the chair she'd been sitting on to brace herself as she leaned over the table to get a better look at the picture, too.

"It's the _Espirito Santo_," Bela calmly explained, "a merchant sailing vessel. Quite a colorful history. In 1859, a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was 37."

"Which would explain the 37 year cycle," Ariel said out loud, her mind moving 100 miles per hour as she processed everything Bela was saying.

"Aren't you a sharp tack?" Bela chirped. "There's a photo of him somewhere…" She flipped through her file. Ariel stood patiently, expectantly waiting for Bela to hand the picture to her when she found it. "Here."

"Isn't that the customer we saw last night?" Dean asked, catching a glimpse of it as it passed from Bela's hands into Ariel's.

"You saw him?" Bela's voice was full of surprise and even a little bit of demand. Ariel narrowed her eyes, again detecting some kind of ulterior motive beneath everything the thief had been doing for them.

"Yeah, that's him. Except he was missing a hand," Dean replied.

"His right hand?" Bela pressed.

"How'd you know?" Ariel asked, unable to keep her suspicion at bay.

"The sailor's body was cremated but not before they cut off his hand to make a hand of glory," Bela explained, ignoring Ariel's leery tone.

"A hand of glory? I think I got one of those sometime last week after a very private, very personal massage. Remember, hon?" Dean asked with a beaming smile as he smirked at Ariel, winking at her. She grinned wickedly back at him while Sam looked as though he were suppressing the urge to vomit, and Bela just blinked.

"Dean, the right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object. It's very powerful," he said. Dean kept his smug smile on his face for a few seconds before reacquainting himself with the task at hand. He was surprised to feel something nudging against his ankle, and he almost jumped until he looked up and saw Ariel smirking back at him.

"So they say," Bela added casually.

"But still, none of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims," Sam continued with a puzzled expression on his narrow face as he looked up at Bela.

"I'll tell you why. Who cares? Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing," she said firmly.

"I don't get it. Why are you telling us all of this?" Dean asked, squinting as he also looked up at Bela.

"Because I know exactly where the hand is!" she declared.

"Where?"

"At the Sea Pines Museum. It's a macabre bit of maritime history." Bela paused. "But I need help."

"I knew it. Here it comes," Ariel said, sighing as she leaned back in her seat and stared accusingly at the Englishwoman.

"Oh, please, would you shut up and relax for one minute?" Bela asked with an edge to her voice. "I'm helping you, and you're helping me. It's a win-win deal."

"What kind of help do you need?" Sam asked, glancing at Ariel to send her signals to back down. She heaved another sigh and tucked some of her short hair behind her ear. Bela grinned at Sam.

"Oh, I was hoping you'd ask. There's a formal affair at the Museum tonight. All you have to do is just dress up and look nice and go along with me," she breezily answered with a shrug. "Quite simple, really."

"I doubt that," Ariel mumbled under her breath. Bela paused, weighing Ariel's words, and she slowly nodded.

"Well, we all can band together to steal it, and that's exactly what I'm talking about," she said.

"Wait, hold up. We don't have formal clothes. In case you haven't noticed, we're fucking squatting in an abandoned house because we couldn't exactly afford another night at the motel," Dean pointed out.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I've got something for all of you. See, I knew you'd say yes," she said with a sly smile. Ariel rolled her eyes again; whenever she was around Bela, her eyes just couldn't seem to stay in one place in her skull. "I've got your clothes out in the car. Ariel, you and I can go back to my hotel to get dressed up nicely for the event since we take a bit longer than the boys."

"You expect me to go somewhere with you?" Ariel asked with a snort. "Honey, I shot you last time you interfered with a case. I don't exactly trust you to treat me like your fucking neighbor."

"Don't be so dramatic. No wonder you and these Winchesters get along. It'll just be for a shower and to touch up hair and make up. I think Sam and Dean can function just fine without you," Bela sighed.

"If you fucking touch her, I'll kill you," Dean growled.

"I know better than to lay a hand on the Furies's little pet," Bela said with a knowing smile in Ariel's direction. "Come on. Help me get the boys their clothes. We have a while to get ready."

* * *

Ariel sullenly rode in Bela's car to the hotel and refused to comment on how secretly impressed she was with the glamor of the building. She quietly showered and dried her hair while Bela showered, keeping her fluffy, expensive towel wrapped tightly around her chest as she got ready. Bela eventually emerged, getting ready alongside Ariel in silence.

Neither woman spoke as they put on make up, but when Bela saw that Ariel was having the tiniest bit of trouble curling the back of her short hair, she took the curling iron from the hunter's hands and did it herself.

"You really are quite beautiful, you know," she said in an offhand manner. Ariel stilled, her navy blue eyes fixed on Bela's relaxed face in the mirror. Bela glanced up and saw Ariel staring warily at her, and she rolled her eyes. "Do you ever get tired of being so defensive all the time? I'm sorry for the things I said yesterday. I mean it. I was out of line."

"Never thought I'd see the day that you'd apologize for something," Ariel replied cautiously.

"Well, it's a genuine apology, so take it, or leave it," Bela answered with a shrug. "Your dress is in the closet. I estimated your size—you're a lot smaller in height and width than I am, but based on visual guesses, I think it'll fit. I think you'll also like the style. So many female hunters lack style, but you're good at dressing yourself."

Ariel stood up and moved over to the closet, holding her towel close to her. She opened the door and saw a floor-length dark turquoise dress. It had a Greek neck that fastened like a collar in the back and showed the right amount of skin to entice viewers but to also keep her comfortable from unwanted stares in unwanted places. She paused as she looked at it.

"It's gorgeous," she said finally. She looked up at Bela and found her smiling proudly.

"Good. I'm glad you like it. I thought it'd compliment both your eyes and Dean's," she said. Ariel balked slightly, and she let out a short laugh.

"You took Dean's eye color into consideration when choosing this dress?" she asked.

"I'm not stupid. I see the way you look at each other. I can read people, Ariel. I'm a thief," Bela responded, dropping her towel to slip into her own dress that was lying flat on the bed. Ariel turned back to look at the dress, and she let her hand run over it. The fabric was smooth and silky, just enough to let her know that she'd never be able to afford that thing without hustling 900 games of pool.

Saving lives didn't come with a price, but living sure as hell did.

* * *

Ariel was surprised at how at ease she was in formalwear. The last time she'd worn a dress this fancy was at her junior prom. Actually, she'd had a dress picked out for senior prom, but she'd wound up having to relocate for the weekend since the Furies had been picking up on her scent. As a result, she'd missed her senior prom, but whatever. Instead of awkward dancing, she'd gotten the opportunity to hunt and kill a ghoul. Not that that was a better substitution, but she wasn't keeping track.

She stood downstairs in the house that she and the brothers had been squatting in. Bela sighed, glaring up the stairs.

"What is taking so long?" she snapped. "Sam's already halfway there…with his date!"

Ariel snickered out loud, earning a glare from Bela that turned into a half-grin as they both thought of Sam's gorgeous date that he was oh so thrilled to be spending his evening with.

"Dean, you can't ever accuse me of taking long to get ready because I'm fairly certain I got all dolled up faster than you this time!" Ariel called up the stairs.

"So not ok with this!" Dean snapped back down the stairs to her.

"What are you, a woman? Come down already!" Bela impatiently huffed.

"Babe, I'm sure you look fine," Ariel sighed, crossing back towards Bela. She looked down at her shoes as she lifted the bottom of the dress. Gorgeous silver heels lifted her a good 4 inches taller and making her closer to Dean's height. Well, everything was relative, she thought as she remembered that Dean easily cleared 6'0".

The sound of shoes coming down the stairs made Ariel turn her head, but it was the sight of Dean that made her gasp. She always thought that Dean looked sexy as hell, but nothing described the way he looked in his tux. He was clean, and he was…just sexy as hell. Her eyes were wide as she drank the sight of him in. He came to the bottom of the stairs and glowered at Bela, not even looking at Ariel yet.

"Alright, get it out. I look ridiculous," he deadpanned.

"Not exactly the word I'd use," Ariel breathed. His eyes darted over to her, and he blinked hard as he saw her for the first time. He cleared his throat, allowing his eyes to roam all over her.

"Wow," he choked out, lifting his hand to his mouth as he cleared his throat again.

"Wow sure is right," Ariel remarked, her eyes still wide as she looked appreciatively at the man she was incredibly proud to call hers.

"You know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex," Bela suggested out loud. Ariel balked, and Dean stared in shock at her. Then he frowned.

"First off, if I'm going to be having angry sex with anyone, it's going to be Ariel, and it'll be fucking amazing angry sex. Second of all…" He awkwardly shifted. "Don't objectify me."

He crossed to Ariel and grabbed her, taking her by surprise and kissing her hard in front of Bela. A small protest came from her throat, but as his mouth tenderly and passionately worked hers, she melted and eased into the kiss more readily. She savored the taste of him, and she put her hands on his solid, tuxedo-covered chest. If she imagined hard enough, she could pretend that they were a rich couple on the way to some charity event that they were always having to go to. They weren't hunters, and they didn't give a shit about anything other than each other. It was a nice fantasy while it lasted. She pulled back, ending the kiss, and she smirked at Bela.

"Let's go." Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Dean's hand and dragged him out behind her, moving quickly. As soon as they were outside, she grabbed him and attacked him, kissing him roughly. His breath caught in his throat as she took his bottom lip between her teeth.

"What the fuck has gotten into you?" he murmured appreciatively into her mouth. "I don't mind dressing up so much now."

"You're hot as hell, Dean Winchester," she replied in between kisses before pulling back to look at him. "I don't know. There's something about a handsome man in a tux that just…_does_ stuff to me."

"I can do things to you," Dean cheekily answered with a wink, and she grinned at him. Bela was approaching them, so Ariel moved back a little bit from Dean in order to not make things super awkward with all their physical interaction. He was beaming at her, his lips swollen and slightly wet from kissing her, and his eyes were bright in the light of the evening as he looked adoringly at her.

Ariel swallowed hard, and she wished that she could take a snapshot of this moment so she could always have it. She closed her eyes and mentally imprinted the image of him looking at her just like that, ignoring the pain that consumed her chest as she was once again reminded that in less than a year, he was being ripped away from her. Opening her eyes, she took in the sight of him again, and it only reminded her that she was not going to let him leave her like that. He was not going to go to Hell, and that was all there was to it.

* * *

Dean didn't enjoy this kind of thing at all. He took a sidelong glance at Ariel and found that she seemed to be having the time of her life, and then he felt a bit guilty about how unhappy he was. So far, Bela had hissed at him to behave like someone who wasn't a heathen—not her exact words, but that was basically what she'd meant—and she'd been unhappy when he'd bitched about the Museum not serving any beer at this occasion.

Ariel, on the other hand, was in her element. She moved effortlessly in her long gown, and she was eagerly downing the champagne as she smiled and hobnobbed with all these people she didn't know. Even though Dean hated these things, he couldn't help how glued his eyes were to her. She was absolutely fucking gorgeous, and every time he looked at her, she took his breath away. She was off talking with someone who was asking her about her involvement with historical maritime artifacts—she'd apparently adopted that as her cover—while he sat off to the side with Bela.

"She's doing very well," Bela remarked and then took a sip of her wine. Dean smiled softly.

"Yeah, she loves doing this girly shit," he said. Bela shot him a sharp look.

"Language, Dean," she lightly reprimanded. "If Ariel can watch her filthy mouth long enough to act civilized here, then I think you can, too. It wouldn't hurt to take a few pages out of her book."

"She wasn't raised by wolves. I, on the other hand, had a wild, primal upbringing," he said with fake nostalgia. Bela looked like she wanted to roll her eyes, but she didn't. At that moment, Sam appeared from nowhere. He looked annoyed and desperate, a lethal mix in the younger Winchester's hazel eyes.

"Exactly how long do you expect me to entertain my date?" he seethed sharply.

"As long as it takes," Bela replied without missing a beat.

"Look, there's security all over the place, alright. This is an uncrashable party without Gert's invitation so—"

"We can crash anything, Dean," Sam interrupted his older brother impatiently.

"Yeah, I know, but this is easier, and it's a lot more entertaining." Dean smiled. Sam shot him death glares.

"Where's Ariel?"

"Currently, she's talking with some bigwig from the city about historical artifacts. Seems like she's up to date on her lingo. Oh, here she is. Hello, gorgeous." Dean held out his arm and wrapped it around Ariel's waist as she came over to him. He kissed her on the cheek while she greeted Sam.

"Hey there, ladykiller," she said with a wink. Sam glared at her, the expression on his face telling her that he looked like he wanted to strangle her.

"You know there are limits to what I'll do, right?" he asked.

"Ah, he's playing hard to get. That's cute," Ariel said, wrinkling her nose at the tall petulant hunter.

"I want all the details in the morning," Dean added as he picked up his and Ariel's wine glasses. He grabbed Ariel's hand and gestured to her. "Come on."

Bela was hot on their heels as she followed them. "Private security?"

"I don't think so. Look at the way they're standing. They're pros. Probably state troopers moonlighting," Ariel replied as she averted her eyes from the security guards so they wouldn't think anything suspicious about her.

"Posted to every door, too," Bela pointed out.

"Yeah, I don't think we're just going to be able to waltz upstairs." Dean glanced at Bela and then down at Ariel, who snuggled in closer to him.

"What do you suggest?" Bela asked.

"I'm thinking," he snapped.

"Don't strain yourself." Bela paused. "Interesting how the legend is so much more than the man." She caught Ariel's murderous stare, but she brushed it off as she turned her attention back towards the now thinking Dean.

"You got any bright ideas? I'm all ears," Dean retorted. He glanced at Ariel with lifted eyebrows. "Come on, you're the one with all the impulsive ideas."

Without another word, Ariel fainted. Her wineglass went crashing to the ground, and her body tipped towards his. In a panic, he caught her, and as his eyes met Bela's, he understood exactly what Ariel was doing. _You fantastic, stupid, impulsive girl_, he thought.

"Honey? Honey, are you all right?" he asked, his voice convincingly portraying the role of panicked spouse. He looked around, quickly wondering what to do next. His eyes landed on a waiter. "Waiter! Hi. Uh, my wife has a severe shellfish allergy. There's no crab in that, is there?"

"No, sir," the waiter replied with a confused expression.

"No?" Dean helped himself to one of the appetizers just in case the waiter was wrong. Huh. The waiter was right. "Oh, they're excellent, by the way."

"What seems to be the trouble?" A guard was making his way over to them, and Dean was relieved to finally see that Ariel's plan was working.

"Ah…champagne!" he declared as he caught sight of the shattered wineglass on the ground. "My wife, she's a lightweight when it comes to the sauce. Is there somewhere I can lay her down until she gets her sea legs back?"

He watched the guard's eyes glance upstairs. "Follow me."

"Right." Dean handed Ariel's clutch to Bela. "Thank you." He lifted Ariel up with ease, marveling at how light she was, though it didn't surprise him because she was so small and lithe. He swiftly followed the guard, careful not to bang Ariel's head into anything as he made his way up the stairs and into the room that the guard led the three of them.

"I told her to be careful about drinking too much tonight, but she loves her wine," he said with a chuckle as he cautiously laid Ariel down on the red couch in the room. He glanced up at the guard and stood up to walk with him to the door. "We're newlyweds. Thank you so much." He held out a few bucks to the guard who happily took it. When he turned around, he saw Ariel sitting up with a grin on her face. "Hey, maybe next time, give me a little heads up with your plan?"

"What? I'm impulsive. I must act as soon as the plan comes into my head," she said with a dramatic sigh.

"I have to admit that it was brilliant," Bela said with a raised eyebrow. "Besides, she probably didn't want you thinking. You're not very good at that."

Dean sputtered around as he looked for a comeback. Bela grinned. "Oh, look at you. Searching for a witty rejoinder."

"Fuck you," he finally settled on.

"Very Oscar Wilde," she replied. "Room 235. It's in a locked glass case wired for alarm. I'm sure that won't be a problem."

"I'm sure that won't be a problem," Dean mocked under his breath. Ariel snickered as she watched him leave the room. She turned towards Bela to see her setting both of their clutches down on a table and going towards the door. She lifted her eyebrows.

"And where are _you_ going?" she asked.

"I'm going as back up," Bela replied. "Stay here. The guards might be back, and we need to have you in the room."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious," Ariel sighed as Bela pulled the door closed behind her. Admittedly, she was bitter that she was missing the fun; she hated sitting by while other people got to do the fun things like stealing a hand of glory, but she knew that Bela was right about her needing to stay there. Even though she would've stayed here had Bela not told her to stay. She sighed again and stared up at the ceiling.

The job was going a different way than she'd been expecting—that was for sure. She definitely hadn't expected to be at a formal event, all gussied up with Dean. The thought of him sent a smile across her face; she'd greatly enjoyed looking at him the entire evening. Seeing him in his tux never got old, and the look of discomfort on his face made him even more adorable.

A knock on the door drew her out of her reverie. Quickly, she sprang to her feet and moved to the door, adopting her character of the lightweight wife. Before she opened the door, she pinched her cheeks to give them some extra red in order to look flushed.

"Sir? Ma'am? Everything all right?" the guard called through the door. Ariel opened it, looking flushed and excited.

"Hi," she greeted.

"Feeling better, I see," he said, shifting awkwardly as he did spoke.

"Yes, much. Thank you," Ariel breathed, batting her eyelashes in such a way that she knew she'd get whatever she wanted. She gazed up at him with her navy blue eyes from underneath her eyelashes, and she watched him swallow hard.

"So, if you're done with the room…?" His voice trailed off.

"Well…not exactly." She paused as she quickly tried to come up with an answer, an excuse of some kind. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. "Could we have a few more minutes?"

"Uh….yes, ma'am," he smiled politely back at her but shifted awkwardly again as she gave him a dazzling smile. She shut the door suddenly, and then, as an afterthought, let out a loud giggle.

"Stop it! That tickles!" she dramatically exclaimed. She paused a few more seconds to see if the guard would knock again, but nothing happened. However, she heard another voice in the hall, and she frowned as she listened hard. She couldn't really hear through the door, but then the door opened, and there Dean was.

"Any trouble?" he asked.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," she replied. Dean frowned.

"Where's Bela?"

"Right here," the Englishwoman spoke up from behind Dean as she shut the door behind her. "The hand?" Dean pulled it out of his pocket to show her. "May I?"

"No," Dean said as he drew it back from her, wrapping it in a handkerchief and shoving it in his pocket defiantly.

"It might be more inconspicuous in my purse," Bela suggested. Ariel gave her a pointed glare and picked up her own clutch from the table Bela had left it on.

"Good idea, Bela. Dean, we can put it in here," she said. Dean smirked and dropped it in Ariel's open bag.

"You're so smart, honey," he said and kissed her on the side of her head. Bela watched as Ariel looked up and beamed at him. He looked back at Bela. "Nice try."

"Just trying to be helpful," she innocently answered with a sweet smile.

"Well, we don't need your kind of help. Come on, Dean. Let's go," Ariel said. She slipped her hand into his big, strong one, smiling at the way his calluses rubbed into her hand. Her own hand was callused from all the years of using knives, guns, and training—and then implementing—hand to hand combat. Mentally, she scolded herself for being so corny as the thought crossed her mind that his hand was made to be held in hers.

"Let's find Sam," Dean added as they stepped out of the room and into the hall. The two hunters and the one thief made their way down the stairs, all three pairs of eyes scanning the crowd for the gigantic Winchester. Dean caught sight of the top of his brother's floppy head and pulled Ariel along behind him as they moved through the crowded room. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Bela was still with them, unfortunately.

"Well! Having a nice time?" he asked when he caught up with Sam and Gert. Sam didn't look as though he were completely miserable, and Dean grinned at the thought that maybe his brother had warmed up to the thought of an older, more experienced woman.

"He's delightful!" Gert declared. She leaned forward to Ariel. "He wants me!"

"Oh!" Ariel replied in surprise, unsure how else to respond. Gert winked at her.

"I'm going to get Gert to a cold shower," Bela whispered in her ear. "See you at the cemetery."

Ariel stepped away from the older woman as Bela stepped forward, talking about something that Ariel couldn't quite hear over the sound of everyone talking and mingling and drinking. She wished that she had a glass of wine as she saw everyone's wineglasses. Turning back towards Dean, she caught the tail end of what he was saying to his brother.

"You stink like sex," he teased. Sam ignored him.

"Come on. Let's just go," he growled. Ariel burst out laughing, much to Sam's chagrin, but she followed him out to the car, nestled against Dean and his warmth. She felt like a fucking spy, and that was an amazing feeling. She'd gotten to do something dangerous in a way that wasn't entirely related to the supernatural; being a spy or a thief like Bela was a different kind of dangerous than having a vamp charge at her to rip out her throat. Definitely different kinds of danger, but Ariel knew which one she'd choose any day.

* * *

"I'm gonna fucking kill her!" Ariel shrieked, heatedly pacing back and forth in the house. "How the fuck could she have gotten it out of my bag? I'm usually so fucking good at being able to tell when I'm being pickpocketed."

"I think that slow torture is the way to go," Dean remarked from the table. Suddenly, a knock distracted them.

"Oh, if that's who I think it is," Ariel growled, marching fiercely towards the door.

"Hello? Could you open up? Just let me explain!" Bela called from the other side of the door. Ariel turned around to shoot an "I knew it" face to the two brothers behind her. With an angry twist of her wrist, she opened the door. Bela flew past her without a glance. "I sold it. I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed."

"And we were the cover," Ariel completed. Bela reluctantly nodded, a look of desperation in her eyes that Ariel was able to pick up on. Curiously, she crossed towards the thief. "What have you done?"

"It's halfway across the ocean. I saw the ship," Bela gasped out.

"You what?" Dean demanded. She didn't answer. He paused, breathing heavily in anger as he stared at her. "Wow, you know—I—I knew you were an immoral, thieving, con-artist bitch, but just when my opinion of you couldn't get any lower—"

"What are you talking about?" Bela asked, her voice laced with genuine surprise.

"We figured out the ghost's motive," Sam interjected. He handed Bela the photograph of the ghost they were dealing with. "This is the captain of our ship. The one who hung our ghost boy."

"So?" Bela impatiently asked. A flicker of irritation passed over Ariel's face.

"So they were brothers. Very Cain and Abel. So now our spirit, he's going after a very specific kind of target—people who've spilled their own family's blood," she snapped. "See, first there was Sheila who killed her cousin in the car accident, and the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance. And now you."

"Oh my God," Bela breathed, her face frozen in horror.

"So who was it, Bela?" Dean demanded. "Hmm? Who'd you kill? Was it Daddy? Your little sis, maybe?"

"It's none of your business," Bela snarled.

"No? Right. Well, have a nice life—you know, whatever's left of it. Sam, Ariel, let's go." Dean turned towards the door, Ariel right behind him without a second thought. Sam even turned, too.

"You can't just leave me here!" Bela cried.

"Watch us," Ariel bit over her shoulder towards the thief.

"Please. I need your help," Bela begged. Ariel watched as Sam paused, knowing that the sensitive younger Winchester would feel moved to help her. She looked at Dean and saw the annoyed look in his eyes as he confirmed what she'd suspected.

"Our help? Now how could a couple of serial killers possibly help you?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Ok, that was a bit harsh—I admit it, but it doesn't warrant a death sentence," Bela pleaded.

"That's not why you're gonna die. What'd you do, Bela?" Sam asked.

"You wouldn't understand. No one did. Never mind. I'll just do what I've always done—I'll deal with it myself," she said, her voice resigned to her fate.

"You do realize you just sold the one thing that could save your life," Dean called as Bela turned to leave.

"I'm aware," the thief softly answered.

"Well…maybe not the only thing," Sam said slowly, looking towards Dean and Ariel. Ariel let out a sigh.

"You might as well tell us what it is. Don't say I never did anything for you, Bela. Ok, Sam. What's the skinny?"

* * *

That night, Dean dreamed of drowning. He dreamt of sinking to the bottom of the ocean, unable to swim towards the top. He was being held down by something, but he wouldn't look at what was keeping him down because he knew that he would be horrified by what he saw. As he lost oxygen, he pictured Ariel's face above him.

The dreams lingered in Dean's mind the next morning as he finished packing to leave. As disgusted as Bela made him, he felt somewhat ok about the fact that they'd saved her. Maybe it would do something to her heart and make her a better person. Somehow, he doubted it. Ariel had a bruise on the side of her face from being slammed around by the ghost last night, but she would be ok. He looked at her, his mouth open to say something, when the door opened.

"You all should learn to lock your doors. Anyone could just barge in," Bela announced. Dean bit his tongue so he didn't snap at her. Yep. He'd been wrong about her changing the way she was. He turned to face her, noticing Ariel's stiff body language as she gazed hatefully at the English thief.

"Anyone just did. Did you come to say goodbye or thank you?" Sam quipped.

"I've come to settle affairs. Giving the spirit what he really wanted, his own brother—very clever, Sam. So here." Bela tossed each of the three hunters a packet of money. Ariel stared quizzically at her. "It's 10,000. That should cover it." Bela watched the three stare at her in disbelief. "I don't like being in anyone's debt."

"So ponying up 10 grand is easier for you than a simple thank you?" Dean asked with a frown. "You're so damaged."

"Takes one to know one. Besides, look at whom you're running with." Bela's light eyes lingered over Ariel as she turned over her shoulder. "Goodbye, chums."

And with that, she was gone. Ariel stared at the money in her hands, unsure whether it was real or not. Sam laughed, "She's got style. You gotta give her that."

"I suppose," Dean reluctantly admitted.

"You know, Dean, we don't know where this money's been," Ariel finally said.

"No, but I know where it's going! Aha!" Dean crazily grabbed Ariel and kissed her hard on the mouth. "To the car, lady and gent!"

* * *

"Seriously? Atlantic City?" Sam asked with a sigh as he navigated from the backseat.

"Hell yeah! Play some roulette. Always bet on black," Dean replied.

"I'm saving mine. Never know when you're gonna need it," Ariel added.

"Hey, listen," Dean said suddenly, glancing at Ariel and then back at Sam. "I've been doing some thinking. Um…I want you to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you two went after the Crossroads Demon." Sam sighed. "You know, situation was reversed, I guess I'd have done the same thing for either of you. I mean, I'm not blind. I see what you're both going through with this whole deal, me going away and all that. But you're gonna be ok. You _both_ are."

"You think so," Sam said in a monotone.

"Yeah, you'll keep hunting, y'know. You live your life. Sammy, you're stronger than me. Ariel, you, too. You are! You…you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry…I'm sorry for…for putting you through all this. I am," Dean said. Ariel's blue eyes blazed as she stared at him, but she kept her mouth shut, unlike Sam.

"You know what? Go fuck yourself," Sam seethed.

"What?" Dean asked, his tone rising in surprise.

"I don't want an apology from you! And I don't want to speak for Ariel, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't fucking want one, either. And by the way, I'm a big boy now. I can take care of myself."

"Oh, well, excuse me," Dean grumbled with a snort. He looked at Ariel. "Are you on the same boat?"

"Yeah, Dean. While these past few days have been nice, you know, playing dress up and running around town on a job, but Sam's right. I don't want an apology from you. I just want you. I want you, and I want you to be alive, and no matter how many times you apologize for that, it won't change the fact that if we don't do something about it, you won't be!" she sharply answered.

"So you can stop worrying about me," Sam added. "I mean, that's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean, I want you to worry about you! I want you to give a crap that you're dying!"

At his last sentence, Ariel's shoulders jerked, and a sob found its way out of her throat. She hadn't even realized that she was fighting the urge to cry, but as soon as Sam said what she'd been holding back, she found tears streaming down her face, and she couldn't help the sob that shook her. She felt Dean's green eyes land on her, and she turned her face so he couldn't see her.

"_This_ is the effect that you have, Dean," Sam continued. "_This _is what you'll be leaving behind because of some selfish deal you made with a demon. Just remember that when you think you're convincing us that you don't give a shit." He paused and saw Dean press his lips into a thin line. "So, that's it? Nothing else to say for you?"

Dean didn't say anything. He watched Sam furiously run his hand through his hair and then lean back in the seat as he realized that no matter what he said, Dean wouldn't say anything. Dean looked over at Ariel and saw her covering her face, keeping her eyes shielded as she stared out the window. He reached out and touched her shoulder to comfort her, but she stiffened beneath his touch. He swallowed, taking his hand away. They seemed to be ok for several days, and yes, she'd been right that it'd been nice to play around and pretend that the truth didn't really exist. But the fact was that he was dying, and he couldn't soothe her pain. Hell, he couldn't even soothe his own pain.

So he brought his hand back to the steering wheel and kept driving, imagining that Ariel's and Sam's pain weren't making his own load of pain harder to bear.


	19. Christmas

**Shoutouts to roxylove7, Deirdreadire, and tigereyekum for reviewing! Keep 'em coming, y'all!**

**Here's a nice long chapter for you guys. "A Very Supernatural Christmas" ;)**

**Also, heads up, there's some very explicit smut in this chapter, so...proceed with caution heh heh**

**Let me know what you think about everything! Enjoy =)**

* * *

Chapter 19

Sometimes Ariel couldn't believe her life. Just when she thought that it was completely unbearable, something ridiculous would happen, and she would be stunned by the realization that everything she thought was serious was actually just plain ridiculousness. And that was exactly how she felt as she walked through the archway that led into Santa's Village as she, Dean, and Sam investigated Evil Santa. The whole thought of Evil Santa was ludicrous, and it was that thought that made her realize that her life was actually nothing but ridiculous.

Dean was in a surprisingly good mood; she'd talked him out of going to Atlantic City to spend his newfound wealth, and instead, the hunters had taken a few small cases that weren't that important, a few vengeful spirits that needed someone to put them in their place. And as long as she and Dean didn't talk about his deal, they were ok. He was so sweet to her that it made her chest physically ache when she thought about him being taken away from her. But she never allowed the thoughts to linger long. Whenever she remembered that she was going to lose him, she just touched whatever part of him that she could and allowed the feel of his solid physicality to erase the pain that lingered underneath her skin.

Things had been going pretty slowly—no Furies in her dreams, no Crossroads Demons, and even no Elliot. Until they'd gotten a call from Bobby that people were being snatched up their chimneys, and the three hunters had decided that that was exactly up their alley.

The investigation was going somewhat smoothly; they had a lead, hence why they were at Santa's Village: the place that the victims had visited right before they'd died. Leads were always promising, but Ariel found it hard to be in a good mood when Sam was so sour. For the past few days, he'd been skulking around with an extra serious look on his face. Sure, he was usually kind of grumpy looking, but she didn't know how he could be anything _but_, considering the circumstances.

Nonetheless, Sam's mood was definitely bringing hers down, even though Dean seemed to be completely unaffected by it. If he noticed it, he was choosing to ignore it. Ariel knew that with the Winchester brothers, that was the worst possible thing to do. For Sam and Dean, ignoring big problems meant that the tension kept building and building, and then it'd explode all over them, and she'd be dragged into the middle of it, no matter how hard she tried not to be.

"It does kind of lead credence to the theory, don't it?" Dean asked, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket as he glanced towards Sam. Ariel's arm was looped through his, and she was snuggled up against him in the cold air.

"Yeah, but anti-Claus? Couldn't be," Sam said with a scornful scoff.

"It's a Christmas miracle. Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year," Dean suggested in an offhand manner.

"Have one what?" Sam asked.

"A Christmas," Dean replied. "What do you think, Ar?"

"Do you not usually celebrate Christmas? Is that even an option?" Ariel asked in surprise, her eyebrows drawn together. She caught Sam rolling his eyes in annoyance, and she thought about calling him out on his bad mood, but she decided not to. Now wasn't the time to get into a fight, especially about Christmas.

"Uh, Christmas hasn't usually been our thing," Dean vaguely answered. "Why? You celebrate it?"

Ariel let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "You bet your ass I celebrate it every year. Bobby and I always have. Even if one of us was all the way across the country, we made sure we made it back home in time for Christmas Eve. Actually, this'll be the first year that I'm working a job and not able to spend Christmas with him on the day off."

"You and Bobby celebrate Christmas?" Sam asked with an odd look on his face. Ariel nodded.

"Yeah. He tried to give me as normal of a life as I could have when I was in high school, and then after I graduated and started hunting with Elliot, we always celebrated it. I mean, on a hunter's budget, we couldn't get each other loads of gifts, but we always gave each other what we needed and then a little of what we wanted," she said. Sam's hazel eyes darkened, and he looked away.

"Yeah, no thanks," he said.

"Come on. We'll get a tree, a little Boston Market, just like when we were little. Ariel can experience a Winchester Christmas," Dean brightly suggested, coaxing his younger brother to join the fun. Sam gave a small, wry grin, not quite meeting Dean's eyes.

"Dean, those weren't exactly hallmark memories for me, you know? We didn't have what Ariel did," he replied sourly.

"What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases," Dean protested.

"Whose childhood are you talking about?" Sam's voice filled with an accusation that couldn't be played off as joking. Ariel was pulled to a stop as Dean planted his feet in the ground to look at his brother with a confused face. Mentally, she sighed. These days, Dean and Sam were always fighting, and she always seemed to be witness to it. Granted, she was always with the two of them, so it was natural that she'd be with them when they fought, but she wanted to give them the privacy that they needed.

"Oh, come on, Sam," Dean pressed, a forced quality entering his voice.

"No! Just…no," Sam said tiredly. Dean paused, unsure whether to keep pushing it or not. The conflict of whether or not to take it to a more serious level also crossed his face, but instead he just jerked his head back and frowned.

"Alright, Grinch," he said. He began walking, Ariel slowly letting her feet move along. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw Sam staring at a plastic reindeer. She didn't know what kinds of memories Sam had associated with that reindeer, but she could tell that they weren't great ones. Unlike the ones that she had.

* * *

Ariel sat on the couch with a blanket over her as she buried her nose in her book. She was so absorbed in reading about the Hindu gods and goddesses that she didn't notice Bobby walk into the room.

"Ariel?"

The sound of her name made her look up. She saw the older hunter awkwardly standing in front of her, his arms crossed as he studied her.

"Do you wanna go outside or something? It's snowing," he said. She blinked and then shook her head.

"No, I'd rather read," she said. "It's cold out there."

Bobby snorted. "Girl, if you ain't used to the cold by now, you'll never get used to living here. Besides, don't kids enjoy running around in that shit?" His eyes widened as he realized he'd cussed. "I mean, stuff. That stuff."

"I might be 12 years old, but I'm a lot more worldly than I appear," Ariel said with a sigh from the couch. Bobby wasn't sure whether to laugh or not. Ariel Easton had been living with him for the past five months, and he still wasn't sure how to react to her. Finally, she cracked a smile, and he laughed softly, shaking his head.

"I knew you had a bit of sass in you somewhere," he said. "So. Talk to me. You're on break for Christmas, and Christmas Eve is tomorrow. What do you want to do?"

She shifted uncomfortably on the couch and shrugged. "I don't know."

"What'd your family do? Do you wanna do something you did with them or…" His voice trailed off, and he sighed. "Honestly, I don't know how to do this whole…" He swirled his hand around helplessly to show that he couldn't even find the words to describe it. Unexpectedly, she smiled at him.

"The whole talking thing," she finished.

"Uh, yeah, something like that."

"I don't really wanna do anything for Christmas," she said and then put her nose back in her book. Bobby sighed.

"Are you sure?" he asked. She nodded without looking at him.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

So it surprised Ariel when several hours later, she looked out the window and saw a reindeer made of twisted metal from old car parts in the front yard outside the house. She hadn't realized that Bobby hadn't been inside all day—she was used to him being busy with other hunters, and sometimes he left for a day or two to help out on hunts, so it wouldn't have surprised her had he just up and gone, though usually he did let her know when he was about to leave. But as she stared at the metal reindeer in the front yard, she felt more touched than she ever had in her life.

She heard the back door open, and she heard the stomps of Bobby's boots on the mat inside the door as he shut the door behind him. She set her book down and walked towards him, a curious look on her face. He looked up when he saw her, and he almost looked embarrassed and shy.

"Did you make that reindeer?" she asked.

"I had some extra parts, and I thought I might as well put them to use with the Christmas spirit," he answered lamely with a shrug. "You might as well have some nice scenery outside that window since you insist on staying glued to your books."

She was quiet, staring at him evenly with those big navy blue eyes. She was a skinny, sorrowful looking thing, he thought. Getting smiles out of her was rare, but when they happened, he took what he could get from her. He hadn't expected her to be chockfull of them—she'd seen her family get attacked by the Furies, for Christ's sake; of course he didn't expect her to not be scarred from it.

And so when she smiled, her eyes beaming up at him, he knew that he'd done something right.

"Thank you," she said. Bobby knew that if he didn't get anything else that Christmas, that smile she'd just given him would be present enough.

* * *

"You'd think with the 10 bucks it takes to get into this place, Santa could scrounge up a little snow," Dean remarked to Ariel as he surveyed the dull, empty place of supposed fun in front of him.

"Seriously. This isn't the Christmas spirit," she agreed with lifted eyebrows.

"What?" Sam asked, seeming to appear back in their conversation. Dean glanced at him curiously.

"Nothing. What are we looking for, again?" he asked.

"Um…lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets," Sam replied.

Ariel wrinkled her nose. "What, we're looking for Pedo-Santa?"

"I prefer the term _Pimp_ Santa," Dean said with a smirk. "Why the sweets?"

"Think about it, Dean. If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer, right?" she replied.

"That's creepy. How does this thing know who's been naughty and who's been nice?"

"I don't know," Sam answered with a shrug, still scanning over their dry, dreary surroundings. He watched a boy named Ronny interact with Santa, and he noticed the creepy cackling that the man playing Santa had when he told the boy he had a "special gift" for him.

"Maybe we do," Ariel said with a disgusted look on her face as she watched Santa leer at the boy on his lap. "Jesus, this makes me feel like I need a shower."

"Tell me about it," Dean snorted. At that moment, a young woman dressed in an elf costume came towards them. Dean felt Ariel stiffen against his arm, her face turning even more disgusted at the sight of the elf.

"I hate when people dress up," she whispered. "And I hate it even more when they come talk to me."

"Welcome to Santa's Court. Can I escort your child to Santa?" the elf asked, looking expectantly at Ariel and Dean. Ariel's eyes went wide, and she sputtered about, gesturing wildly and awkwardly laughing at the same time.

"Kid? No. No, no, no, we don't have kids," she protested. Dean shook his head vehemently in agreement.

"No kids," he said. "But, uh, actually my brother here," he paused to smack Sam on the shoulder, "it's been a lifelong dream of his."

The elf gave Sam a wary glance, and Ariel covered her mouth to keep from guffawing out loud. Discreetly, she nudged Dean in the ribs with her elbow and looked up at him, noticing how he was also trying to keep from laughing.

"Uh, sorry. No kids over…12," the elf replied.

"No, he's just kidding. We only came here to watch," Sam protested, shooting Dean a pissed look. The elf looked even more grossed out at Sam's words, and he realized what he'd just said.

"Ew," the elf said and backed away, glaring at the tall Winchester.

"I—I didn't mean that we came here to w—y—thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that," Sam snapped as the elf continued to back away before turning away completely before Sam could finish his excuse. If Sam hadn't been pissed off before, he was definitely pissed off now. Ariel felt guilty for laughing and thinking that the situation was funny, so she tried to stow her giggles as the hazel eyes of Sam Winchester landed on her in a scowl.

Suddenly, she tilted her head, distracted by something, "Hey, are you seeing this?"

Dean's and Sam's heads turned towards where she was looking, their gaze following hers. Lo and behold, Pedo Santa was walking with a limp, and he was walking right past them.

"A lot of people walk with limps, right?" Sam asked.

"Tell me you didn't smell that," Ariel quietly demanded. "That was candy, dude."

"Dude, I smelled it," Dean interjected, holding up a hand.

"That was Ripple. I think. Had to be," Sam answered disbelievingly, but his gaze turned back towards limping Pedo-Santa Suspect #1 as he squinted his eyes to get a better look at the creepy old dude.

"Maybe. We're willing to take that chance?" Dean asked, casting a knowing look in Sam's direction. Sam chewed on his look, his hazel eyes darting to look at Dean.

"Ok. So maybe the lore was right. Anti-Claus," he admitted. "So what do we do now?"

"We go James Bond," Ariel said seriously. "We stake his house and watch for him to fuck up. If he's the anti-Claus, he'll fuck up at some point, and then BAM. We ice him on the spot. Pun intended."

Dean frowned. "How was that a pun?"

"Santa. Ice," Ariel explained, the look on her face showing that that should be answer enough. Dean frowned even more deeply. "You know. Santa lives in the North Pole. There's ice in the North Pole. If we _ice_ Santa…we're killing him. And that's funny because he lives where there's ice."

"But Santa isn't real," Dean protested. She heaved out a sigh and rolled her eyes.

"Never mind. Thank God you have your looks," she said, a teasing smile on her lips. He smirked back at her and pulled her into him, his arms wrapping around her lower back as he kissed her deeply. She hummed appreciatively against his lips, devouring what he gave to her. His lips were cold from the air, but his tongue was warm, flicking into her mouth and caressing her.

"I just have my looks, huh?" he asked, pulling back to smirk at her again.

"Ok, so you have good looks and good kissing skills," she said with a dismissive shrug, but she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him sweetly one last time. "Come on. Let's go trail our Pedo-Santa."

* * *

Dean hated waiting. He hated sitting by and doing nothing, and that's exactly what this was. Sam, on the other hand, looked as though he could sit and wait for years and years and years. He sat quietly in the passenger's seat, his eyes fixed forward on the tiny mobile home that belonged to Pedo-Santa. They'd managed to trail him back to his home and park the Impala so they could watch unseen.

"What time is it?" Dean asked, stifling a yawn.

"Same as the last time you asked. Here. Caffinate." Sam handed Dean a thermos of coffee. "You holding up ok, Ariel?"

"Shhh. I'm in spy mode," she whispered to him.

"Ar, we're just watching a house," Sam responded bluntly.

"Watching. Spying. It's all semantics," she flippantly replied. "Besides, I'm doing pretty ok for myself on the caffeine regime." She held up a very large thermos of coffee and guzzled a few swallows. "Peppermint mocha. Hits the spot."

"When'd you get that?" Dean asked, twisting back to look at it.

"A spy never gives away her secrets." Ariel's voice dropped back to a mysterious whisper, her eyes glued to the house, undeterred by the eye rolling happening between Dean and Sam.

"Wonderful," Dean sighed. "Hey, Sam."

"Yeah?" Sam asked.

"Why are you the boy that hates Christmas?"

"Dean…"

"I mean, I admit it. You know, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids," Dean continued.

"'Bumpy'?" Sam asked with raised eyebrows.

"That was then. We'll do it right this year. We have Ariel, and that means we'll have a woman's touch," Dean said.

"Sexist bullshit," Ariel retorted without missing a beat.

"What? Women generally have a better sense of decorating and holidays and shit like that. Are you telling me that you're not better at making things look nice than I am?"

"Yeah, I'm better at making things look more organized and neat than you, but assuming because I'm a female I'm better at it is sexist bullshit."

"Ok. Allow me to rephrase: We have Ariel, and that means she's good at decorating, and if she doesn't mind helping, we'll have a nice looking Christmas." Dean checked with her to see if what he'd said was ok, and she gave him a thumbs up. Briefly, he was reminded of when Dream Ariel had done that when the Djinn had poisoned him and taken him off to that universe where his mom had been alive, and he hadn't had any kind of relationship with Sammy.

"Look, Dean. If you and Ariel want to have Christmas, knock yourselves out. Just don't involve me," Sam sighed. The disappointment was obvious in Dean's eyes, and Ariel wanted to hold him and take away the hurt look that was across his face. He took his gaze away from Sam and looked in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, that'd be great. Me and Ariel making cranberry molds while you're off sulking by yourself," he muttered crossly.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Ariel exclaimed from the back of the car in a loud whisper and pointed her finger towards the window where Pedo-Santa was looking around through it before shutting the curtains. "You don't see that every day."

"What's up with Saint Nicotine?" Dean quipped suspiciously. Silence filled the car as they all curiously waited for something to happen. Suddenly, a woman's scream split the air, and all three hunters were out of the car in a flash. Ariel pulled her gun out from her waistband and held it out in front of her, her feet moving almost more quickly than her brain was. By this point, she was moving on instinct, pure instinct and muscle memory. She remembered the days when she had to think and plan every single move, but now, she just knew what to do. Funny how hunting was just in her blood, she thought.

As they stood outside the door of the mobile home peering in, Sam let out a snort.

"What?" Dean asked in a whisper.

"Nothing. It's just that, uh…well, Mr. and Mrs. Gung Ho Christmas might have to blow away Santa," Sam responded with a smirk. Ariel gave him a scowl and the middle finger.

"We're not even married," she grumbled towards him. Dean ignored Sam and opened the door to the mobile home. They burst in, guns down, as they prepared themselves for what they'd find.

What was awaiting them inside the trailer was a shock, to say the least.

There wasn't any blood. There weren't any screaming women. There was just Pedo-Santa in a dirty wife-beater in front of the TV.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Pedo-Santa slurred as he stumbled to his feet, a bottle in his hands. Ariel quickly glanced at Dean and Sam in wide-eyed panic. No one knew what to do.

"Mistle my toe. Roast my chestnut. Egg my nog," a woman on TV was moaning in the background. Ariel smirked before she could stop herself.

"Ah, w—" Sam stuttered, not sure how to cover themselves.

"Jingle my bells?" the woman on TV answered. Suddenly, Ariel cleared her throat and straightened, keeping her gun hidden behind her upper thigh.

"Silent night, holy night," she sang. She shot a glare to Dean and Sam who picked up immediately on what she was doing. The two brothers joined her song, but they were terribly out of tune, and they didn't even know the goddamn words. She kept singing.

"All is dry!" Pedo-Santa crooned, chuckling and sitting down in joy to sing with the three hunters.

"Round and round…" Sam and Dean were mumbling out as Ariel sang the correct words. "Virgin…table…"

Sam placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, and Dean placed a hand on Ariel's, and then all three were out of there. Quickly, Dean shut the door behind them, and they maintained a steady walk to the car. No one dared to breathe a single word until they were safe inside the Impala with the doors locked.

"Are you guys serious?" Ariel groaned out loud as she slumped in the backseat. "You don't know simple Christmas carols?"

"We don't believe in God," Dean snorted. Sam shot him a look that contradicted Dean's statement, but he didn't say anything.

"I don't believe in God, and I still know simple Christmas carols," Ariel retorted. Sam's face had that dark, bitter look on it again as he twisted to look back at her.

"Ariel, we didn't have the same kind of holidays that you did with Bobby," he said sharply. "We were always on the road. Dad wasn't even with us on most of them. So excuse us if we don't know the words to simple Christmas carols that everyone else does, ok?"

"Look, I'm sorry that you had shitty Christmases when you were younger, but don't fucking ruin it for everyone else," Ariel snapped viciously back at him. The surprise in Sam's eyes made her calm down—he was surprised by the anger in her retort, but he was also surprised by his own harsh words to her in the first place. Ariel wasn't someone that he fought with; that luxury belonged to Dean. Ariel was the person who generally backed him up—hell, she'd spent the past month or so helping him to find a way to break Dean's deal. Snapping at Ariel didn't feel right, especially when she was helping him 99% of the time. Instead of apologizing to her, however, he turned around and didn't look at her so he could hide his shame.

* * *

Sometimes Dean was grateful for Sam's pissy moods. As soon as the hunters had gone back to their motel, Sam had mumbled something about needing to go out for a drive, and he'd taken the keys from Dean and left. That meant that Dean got some alone time with his favorite blonde hunter. He locked the door behind Sam and turned back towards Ariel; she was eagerly shedding her coat, her sweater, riding boots, and jeans to jump under the covers. Her cheeks were red from the cold wind outside. He grinned as he looked at her trying to warm up.

"Cold?" he asked her. She nodded, sticking her head up over the blankets.

"I'm so wimpy when it comes to any temperature below 55 degrees," she breathed. "Come warm me up."

She said it so innocently that Dean walked towards her, took off his boots, and climbed in bed with her without a second thought. As soon as he was under the covers, however, she was on top of him, straddling him and pressing her body flat against his. His breath caught in the back of his throat as he looked into her eyes and saw the teasing sparkle he'd only come to associate with her playful sexual side. She lay forward on him so that her body was completely parallel to him; he could feel her breasts against his chest as she avoided his lips and kissed the side of his neck, the one spot that she knew would get him going in an instant.

And it worked.

With a grunt, Dean pushed his hands up her sides and quickly removed the loose shirt she'd been wearing. She grinned at him.

"You're supposed to be making me warm, not making me colder," she said. He smirked cheekily at her, and his green eyes darkened to that color that made heat pool between her legs.

"It's not about what you're wearing, sweetheart—it's all about physical activity," he replied huskily. She took her hands and smoothed them over his chest, touching and appreciating every inch of his body, even though he was clothed. She scooted back, urging him to sit up so she could remove his button down. Dutifully, he did as he was supposed to and let her shove it back over his shoulders and down his elbows. He flung it off to the side, his eyes glued to Ariel, and he removed his t-shirt in one swift motion.

Sensation overwhelmed him as the familiar touch of her lips against his bare skin made him hold his breath. The urge to flip her over and just thrust into her was so strong that he almost did it, but he didn't. He forced himself to let her take her time touching him. He loved every bit of it, and the thought that she wanted him so badly that she wanted to take the time to love his body almost made him choke as he swallowed. She gave him a feeling that he'd never had before, something he knew he'd never find in anyone else ever again.

She made him feel important. She made him feel special. She made him feel as though he was separated from all the responsibilities he'd ever had to take on in his life, as though he meant more to her as a person instead of as someone who could only be used as a shield for his younger brother. She made him feel all kinds of things he'd never experienced in his life, so he let her hands and her lips whisper prayers of wonder against the expanse of his skin.

As she touched him, he reached up and took her breasts in his hands. A sigh came as an exhale from her lips, and she closed her eyes. He was so damn solid. His hands, his chest, his arms. Every part of him, and she loved that. He was still sitting, and his hands moved to the clasp of her bra and undid it in one easy flick. She grinned, keeping her eyes closed as he kissed her breasts. His mouth was hot, wet, and tender over her skin, trailing down her rib cage.

She suddenly stopped him and put her hands on his belt, quickly undoing it. He took over from her, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, shoving them off and away from them as he was left in just his boxers. They stared at each other. For a moment, it seemed as though neither Dean nor Ariel were sure of what to do next. They looked at each other with lust-filled eyes, taking in the sight of the other's body, the other's presence. Then Dean grabbed her and crushed her to him, the bare length of her upper body pressed into his. She moved her hips so that they were flush with his, and her eyes widened even more as she felt his hard arousal lengthening against her stomach. Her skin was hot, and he smiled against his shoulder.

"Warm yet?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"Close but not quite," she sighed in his ear, tugging at his boxers. She couldn't quite get them off, and it only made Dean smile wider. His hand moved lower, pressing between her thighs until they opened to allow his access. His fingers skimmed over the right part of her underwear, and she let out a tight moan. Unable to wait any longer, Dean dragged her underwear down and flung it over his shoulder, not caring where it went. He pushed her onto her back and dipped his hands between her thighs again. He kissed her as two fingers pushed into her. Her hips arched, and she moaned into his mouth, the vibrations of the sound making Dean harden even more. He continued his relentless attack with his fingers, loving every twist and jolt that he received from her body.

Finally, she wouldn't take it any longer. Without warning, she pulled herself away from him and yanked his boxers down. He chuckled, letting them fall away from him. When he looked up, she was staring intensely at him, and she kissed him hard. His hips began to grind against her, and he groaned when she grasped his length in her hand.

"I want you," he whispered throatily to her, opening his eyes and gazing desperately into her face. She nodded but didn't say anything. Instead, she pushed him back so that he was kneeling back with his weight on his heels, and she straddled him. Her eyes were glued to his as she lowered herself down, taking him inside her. Despite himself, Dean groaned in pleasure as he became fully sheathed. He looked up at Ariel and nodded. At his nod, she began to move up and down, taking him farther and farther inside her each time she lowered down. The sensation of having him inside her was indescribable, and she grasped him tightly to her as she moved.

Dean wrapped his arms around her lower back, the position allowing him to help her move on him. He breathed raggedly against her collarbone, and he kissed her where the smooth, hard edge of the bone made the thin skin rise and lower to create a hill. He drew his eyebrows together as he struggled to keep self-control—he always needed self-control whenever it came to having sex with Ariel. She just felt so goddamn good, so soft and warm and wet that he knew he'd lose himself forever in her if he could.

She was moving slowly, and he put his broad, strong hands on her hips to encourage her to increase the pace. She accepted the pace he set, having adjusted to the stretch that came with having to accommodate his size, and she arched her hips at the pace change. Dean grunted, his face set in a concentrated frown as he realized that self-control was sometimes impossible when it came to Ariel.

In one smooth movement, he was on top of her, thrusting roughly into her as he took control. A smile split across her face, and his lips attacked hers. He could feel her racing towards her climax—her body was tightening around him.

"God, Ariel," he groaned into her mouth. Sweat was on her lips, but it tasted perfect on her. He didn't mind, and he continued to thrust relentlessly into her body. She tightened around him, and her eyes closed as she let out a sharp cry that resembled his name. Unable to last any longer, he gave three hard thrusts, and he came, releasing inside of her. They gasped for breath as they acclimated themselves to the feeling of being together after what they'd just done.

Dean was collapsed in Ariel's arms, though he was careful not to put his full weight on her. He could feel her arms weakly wrapped around the small of his back, her hands resting on his shoulder blades loosely. She loved how his muscles moved beneath his skin when he was over her; she'd told him that the last time they'd had sex—Dean couldn't exactly remember when the last time they'd had sex was since Sam was always with them, thereby robbing them of any intimate alone time together.

"You…" he finally breathed out, "are actually perfect."

She laughed beneath him, and he jerked at the sensation of it while he was still inside her. "Far from it. But you're sweet."

He pulled out of her and let her clean up in the bathroom and get dressed while he hunted for his own clothes. Her legs were weak as she tried to move about, and the feeling of it made her grin to herself. As soon as she had her shirt and underwear on again, she got back under the covers. Dean was shuffling around as he put his own shirt and boxers on.

"Warm now?" he asked. She looked up at him and nodded, smiling.

"Yep. I'm warm. You done good, son," she said and slapped him lightly on the shoulder as he got back under the covers with her.

"I swear you're a dude sometimes," he mumbled. Ariel's response was a light laugh as she drifted off to sleep, just like she always did after sex. Dean grinned to himself. "Yep. You're a dude."

* * *

"What did Bobby say?" Dean asked as Ariel hung up the phone.

"Uh, that we're morons," she replied with a smirk. "He also said that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths."

At the mention of meadowsweet, Sam began typing away furiously on his laptop. She glanced at it—his laptop was severely outdated, but he seemed to be addicted to it, unwilling to ever let it go. It was a miracle that he'd let her use it after he'd only known her for a day or so.

"Wow! Amazing. What the hell is meadowsweet?" Dean retorted.

"It's pretty rare, and it's probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore," Sam interjected from his position with the laptop. Ariel folded her arms as she stood expectantly looking at Sam for more information.

"_Pagan_ lore?" Dean repeated.

"Yeah, see, they used meadowsweet for human sacrifice. It was kind of like a…chum for their gods. Gods were drawn to it, and they'd stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human," Sam explained. Ariel let out a groan.

"Goddammit, I always hate dealing with pagan gods," she said. "Pagan gods, vengeful spirits, and witches are the pettiest fucking assholes out there."

"Truth," Dean agreed, pointing at her. "But why would somebody be using meadowsweet for Christmas wreaths?"

"It's not as crazy as it sounds, Dean. I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan," she said with a shrug.

"Christmas is Jesus's birthday," Dean protested, warranting a scoff from both Ariel and Sam.

"One, we don't even believe in Jesus," she said. "Two, Jesus's birthday was actually probably in the fall."

"It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the Church and renamed 'Christmas.' But I mean, the Yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit—that's all remnants of pagan worship," Sam said.

"How do you two know that? What are you gonna tell me next? Easter Bunny's Jewish?" Dean demanded in disbelief.

Ariel shrugged. "Hey, I live with Bobby. That's how I know my lore."

"So you think we're dealing with a pagan god?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, God of the winter solstice," Sam answered.

"And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreathes…" Dean's voice trailed off.

"Yeah, it's pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying, 'Come kill us,'" Ariel finished, confirming what Dean had been thinking.

"Great," Dean grumbled in response.

"Huh…when you sacrifice to Hold Nickar, guess what he gives you in return," Sam spoke up, his eyes skimming over an article he was reading from a book that he had open on the table in the middle of the motel room

"Lap dances, hopefully," Dean snorted.

"Mild weather," Sam deadpanned.

"Kind of like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan," Dean said as he gestured out the window, sitting down in the chair by the laptop. Sam nodded.

"For instance," he replied.

"Do we know how to kill it yet?" Sam questioned. Ariel shook her head grimly.

"No, Bobby's working on that right now. We got to figure out where they're selling those wreathes," she said.

"You think they're selling them on purpose? Feeding the victims to this thing?" Dean asked. Ariel raised her eyebrows and shrugged noncommittally.

"It's a damn good theory," she said.

Sam let out a sigh and stood up. "Well, let's find out."

* * *

Thankfully, they had another lead. Ariel was glad that something was going their way, particularly after it seemed like lately _nothing_ was going their way, what with Dean's deal still being on the table. She glanced at Sam, wondering if he'd heard from their blonde-haired pal Ruby lately. She hadn't exactly met Ruby for very long, but hey, if the demon had said she knew a way out of Dean's deal, she wasn't going to just gank her on the spot.

"How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?" Dean asked thoughtfully, shutting the door behind him as he, Sam, and Ariel trailed back into the motel room after their productive meeting with the wreath man.

"A couple hundred dollars, at least," Ariel responded with a snort, as though that were the obvious answer.

"This lady's giving them away for free? What do you think about that?" Dean asked.

"Well, sounds pretty suspicious," Sam answered. He, Dean, and Ariel took off their coats and flung them onto their beds. Ariel and Dean sat down on their respective bed, and Sam sat down on his with a loud, tired groan.

"Remember that wreath Dad brought home one year?" he asked with a grin. Ariel sat behind him and leaned her forehead against the broad expanse of his back, feeling the vibrations through his body as he spoke.

"You mean the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?" Sam asked, a trace of bitterness in his tone. Ariel felt tension creeping into her shoulders as she suspected another fight brewing between the brothers.

"Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans," Dean said with a laugh. "That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it."

"Alright. Dude…what's going on with you?" Sam finally snapped, bringing attention to the obvious elephant in the room.

"What?" Dean asked innocently.

"I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want Christmas so bad?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head as he searched for words, still trying to keep a cheery look on his face, even though he could tell he was losing.

"Why are you so against it?" he asked. "I mean, were your childhood memories _that_ traumatic?"

"No, that has nothing to do with it," Sam defensively replied.

"Then what?" Dean pushed with a forced laugh. He felt Ariel let out a silent sigh against his back as she tried to pretend that she wasn't witnessing a moment that wasn't for her to see.

"I—I mean—I just—I don't get it. You haven't talked about Christmas in _years_," Sam said finally. Dean was silent as he considered what his brother was saying, but there was another look in his eyes as he contemplated whether or not to say what was weighing on his mind. He looked away and then back at his brother.

"Well, yeah," he said carefully. "This is my last year."

At his words, Ariel immediately snapped away from him, her body stiff and straight as she closed her eyes hard. He turned so that he could open himself up to both her and Sam, noticing the look of pain in Sam's hazel eyes as he took in Dean's admission.

"I know," Sam said softly. "That's why I can't."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, the tone of his voice too forced to sound casual. He looked towards Ariel, wondering if he should try to comfort her, but he'd found that every time she'd gotten emotional over the thought of his going to Hell, she just pushed him away from her. So he kept his hands to himself.

"I mean, I can't just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything's ok, when I know next Christmas you'll be dead," Sam said, his voice breaking on the last word of his sentence. Dean was silent, but he nodded, accepting Sam's answer. "I just can't."

Ariel suddenly stood up. "I'm—I'm gonna take a walk. I need some air."

Her voice was shaky, and Dean saw her hand shaking as she grabbed her coat, slipping her arms into the sleeves. He tried to look at her face, but she kept her short hair covering her eyes.

"Ar—" he started.

"No. Stop. Stop," she interrupted. "I'm going by myself. I'll be back at some point."

And then she was gone. She walked swiftly through the cold, biting air, choking back sobs that threatened to bubble out of her throat. She was strong enough to deal with talking about Dean's death—she'd gotten to the point where and Sam could discuss it as they discussed ways to break him free of his deal. But Sam talking about how next year Dean would be dead…that had done things to her. It reminded her too painfully of a last Christmas that she hadn't known would be a last Christmas.

* * *

"Please, don't get as drunk this year as you did last year," Elliot sighed as Ariel unlocked the door to her house. She gave him the finger, opening the door and pushing inside.

"Hey, give me some credit," she said. "Last year was my first year to legally get drunk on Christmas Eve."

"Yeah, but it wasn't the first time you've gotten drunk on Christmas Eve," he retorted.

"Bobby! We're back!" Ariel shouted. She and Elliot took their boots off by the door as they always did whenever they were back from hunts. Elliot didn't actually live with Bobby and Ariel, but he was there so much that it was almost as if he actually did. Wherever Ariel went, he was sure to follow, and if that meant back to her home base, that was where he went, too.

"Goddammit, girl, you're gonna scream down the house," Bobby muttered, appearing from the kitchen and wiping his hands on a towel. "Dinner should be done in about two hours."

Ariel bounded over to the older hunter and wrapped him in a hug. "I've gotta say—you're not the world's best cook, but you sure can make some damn good fried chicken and canned cranberry sauce."

"Yeah, yeah, I know it's your favorite. You're always whining about how it's not Christmas without fried chicken and that awful cranberry sauce," Bobby grumbled, but he looked fondly at the blonde hunter.

"Personally, I think cranberry sauce is awesome," Elliot interjected. Ariel high-fived him and slapped his shoulder.

"That's my boy!" she shouted. She and Elliot followed Bobby into the kitchen and sat at the kitchen table while he checked on the fried chicken. "You know, I've got to say that this'll probably be the best Christmas ever."

"You and your predictions," Elliot sighed. "Remember the last time you said you thought something was going to be awesome?"

"Ok, so that time I was wrong. How was I supposed to know that fireball whiskey was disgusting?"

"It's not disgusting, A. You just can't hold your alcohol, and you wound up puking all over the goddamn place."

"Fuck you, Ell. I'm a classy lady, and I like wine," she snorted.

"Language!" Bobby corrected in a monotone. She rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, as I was saying. I like wine. Fireball whiskey _sounded_ awesome but was, altogether, _not_ awesome," she continued. "Hey, Bobby, where's the champagne? How many bottles do you have left?"

"Well, I knew you were coming home, so I picked up a few extra earlier this week. They're in the fridge over there." Bobby gestured with his free hand towards the fridge. Ariel promptly got up and grabbed a bottle of wine and two bottles of beer. She moved back to the table, giving a beer to Elliot and the other to Bobby as she opened the bottle of wine for herself. She popped the cork off and smiled in satisfaction.

"Perfect. I'm home with my two favorite guys, and nothing's fucking with us tonight. No demons, no shapeshifters, and no Furies." She raised her bottle. "I'll toast to that."

"To safety," Elliot chimed in, raising his bottle towards Ariel's. Bobby felt Ariel's gaze on the back of his head, and he sighed, turning away from his cooking chicken to lift his beer bottle into the center with everyone else's.

"To family," he said quietly. Ariel's eyes darkened, and her mouth curved down as the sadness weighed down on her.

"To Scott. Ten years, bud," she said.

"To Scott," Bobby and Elliot quietly added, and they each drank their first sips of alcohol in silence. She watched Bobby and Elliot as they somberly gazed at their bottles, thinking back to the people that they'd lost in their lives. Elliot pushed his solid black frames up his nose, chewing on the inside of his lip.

"Hey, don't be sad," she said suddenly. "We're here, right? So let's enjoy Christmas together."

"Jesus, when did you start becoming queen of the pep talk?" Elliot snorted. "Last time I checked, that was my job."

"Yeah, well, you'll always be around to pep talk me, so I thought I'd throw one in while I could," she retorted. "Am I right, or am I right?"

Elliot gave her a bored look. "Whatever you say. And I know that every year you say you won't get _that_ drunk on Christmas Eve, but you always throw up at least once. You'll do the same next year. I'll bet you on it."

"Yeah? How much you wanna bet?" Ariel asked with a gleam in her blue eyes.

"Ten dollars. I'll bet you 10 fucking dollars that you'll throw up at least once next year on Christmas Eve."

"You're on."

* * *

Elliot hadn't lived to see next Christmas. He'd been killed a month later.

Ariel finally stopped fighting the tears, and she cried, allowing the pain to consume her entire body. She cried for that last Christmas she'd had with Elliot, oblivious to the fact that it'd been his last. She cried for the last month she'd hunted with him. She cried for the $10 he owed her because she hadn't gotten drunk and throw up the next Christmas on purpose—she'd done it in the naïve hope that he'd suddenly appear out of nowhere, laughing, telling her it'd all been a joke so that he could win their stupid bet.

She cried for the first Christmas she was sharing with Dean. And she cried because it was also the last Christmas.


	20. Surprises

**Shoutouts to roxylove7, Deirdreadire, and tigereyekum for reviews! Keep 'em coming!**

**Ugh, sorry for the few day hiatus I took. I just needed some time to think about how I wanted to end this chapter, and I think I found a good way to end it =)**

**Let me know your thoughts and opinions as always! I'm so glad y'all are enjoying the nice, dark, painful bits in addition to the light, fluffy pieces heh heh!**

**Enjoy! =)**

* * *

Chapter 20

Dean was familiar with the feeling of self-loathing, but the intense swell of it that hit him after Ariel rushed out of the motel was something new to him. He avoided Sam's gaze, knowing that Sam would be giving him a look that would make him feel even more guilty. He quietly sighed and looked down at the ground. Nothing he did these days seemed to be right; Sam was pissed that Dean had made the deal to save his life, and Ariel was clearly distraught and wouldn't let him comfort her. It didn't seem like just last night he'd felt free of all his burdens by her touch. Now he seemed anchored down by her anguish.

"You don't have just me to think about anymore," Sam said quietly from his spot on the bed. Dean didn't move—he continued to stare at the ground as he clenched his hands together.

"I know," he replied.

"That woman out there loves you, and I think she'd die for you if she were given the opportunity," Sam said, his voice more solid. Dean finally looked up at his brother, his jaw tense at Sam's words.

"Don't be stupid," he gruffly answered.

"Don't tell _me_ not to be stupid," Sam retorted. "Do you see how she gets every time the topic of your death comes up? We've been working _relentlessly_ to try to find a way out for you, Dean. If the Crossroads Demons would take her, she'd give her life for you in a heartbeat. Look….Dean…" he paused. "You and I have given up so much. And when something good comes into your life, don't be stupid about it."

Dean looked away from his brother and stood up, grabbing his jacket and pushing his arms into the sleeves.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked.

"To not be stupid," Dean answered with a smirk. Sam offered up a half-smile.

"Good luck," he said.

"Thanks. I need it." Dean hadn't planned the sincerity in his words until they were already out of his mouth. He paused for a half a second as Sam registered what Dean had said, and then he looked away and walked out the door. He did need luck; he needed a shit ton of luck with everything going on in his life. With Ariel, the demons, the Furies, his deal…he needed more luck than he could muster up. For a few seconds, he half-regretted burning the rabbit's foot; maybe it could've kept him alive longer when the hellhounds came to get him. Realistically, though, he knew that that wouldn't have saved him any more than a gun could save him from those hellhounds.

The air was cool around him, and he stood still for a few moments to allow the crisp air waken his senses. He breathed in deeply and exhaled. Taking the initiative to go find Ariel was one thing, but finding her was something different altogether. He had the feeling that if the hunter didn't want to be found, she would make sure that she couldn't be found, and in that case, she could be anywhere. Thankfully, she was on foot, and he hadn't let too much time go by before running out after her, so she couldn't have gotten _that_ far.

He walked towards the back of the motel—the back was the quietest part of the place, and there were also woods that could easily hide a person. It seemed like to obvious of a hiding place, but when he heard hard, wet gasps, he knew that he was in the right place. Panic struck his chest as he heard the pain in Ariel's cries. He was overcome by the thought that something had happened to her, and he took off running in the direction of her pained, choked sobs.

It didn't take long for him to reach her. She was doubled over by a tree, her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Dean's chest constricted, and he was next to her in a heartbeat.

"Ar!" he exclaimed, taking hold of her. "Ariel."

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up so he could examine her, his green eyes quickly trailing over her body to see where she was hurt; confusion marred his sharp features as he saw that there was nothing physically wrong with her. She was ok. Those painful cries had been coming from her because of something that was entirely emotional, and the thought of that made Dean want to die. She could barely look at him through her watery, swollen eyes, sobs violently wracking her shoulders. As if to push him away, she held up her hands, but she couldn't take more than a step back without collapsing into the arms he encircled around her.

"God, Ariel," he whispered tightly into her ear as he grasped her. He expected her to fight him, but she didn't. Instead, she released herself entirely, allowing him to support her as she cried. "Baby, you're ok. You're ok. You hear me? You're ok."

He let her cry until she had no more tears. He just held her, stroking the top of her head and murmuring into her hair that she was ok, whether or not she could hear it. Slowly, her sobs faded into gasps, and her gasps became sniffles, and her snuffles melted into deep, slow breathing. Dean felt a stinging behind his eyelids as he tried to absorb her pain.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't know which is worse," she said slowly. "Knowing that this is my last Christmas with you or being completely unaware like I was with Elliot."

An extra wave of guilt crashed over Dean's head as he thought about the partner that Ariel had so dearly loved. He didn't know very much about Elliot aside from what Ariel had told him: she'd grown up with him, he'd been her brother's best friend, and he was tortured and killed by the Furies as a way to punish Ariel. He didn't know much about her former partner, but he knew that the subject was something that caused her agonizing pain, and he didn't want her to feel it.

"But I'm here. Right now. I'm here right now, and I want to have Christmas with you. Shit, there's nowhere else I'd rather be than with you and Sammy, ok? You hear me, Ar?" He pushed her away from him so he could look at her. Her blue eyes were watery, but she nodded. For the first time, Dean could clearly picture what she must've looked like as a little kid with her giant navy eyes and her sharp, angular features and her hair falling into her face. He could picture how Bobby must've seen her when she showed up on his doorstep with no parents and no brother and no one else in the world for her to turn to.

Her phone rang, and she sniffed, pausing and frowning before pulling it out of her pocket.

"Bobby," she said, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat once and answered it, but not before allowing Dean to pull her back in closer to the warmth of his body. She closed her eyes and breathed in the familiar scent that made up the tall, stubborn hunter. "Hey, Bobby."

"Well, I found a way for you and the boys to kill those gods," the older hunter replied back to her. She found comfort in his voice, and she found herself smiling.

"Yeah? I don't have all day, old man," she said teasingly. Surprisingly, after all the crying she'd done, her voice didn't sound too hoarse or raw, and she was thankful for that. She didn't want to talk about her memory with Bobby, even though she knew that he of all people could understand her sorrow. He snorted.

"Before you know it, you'll be my age, and you won't appreciate some smartass 25 year old brat calling you old. Anyway, evergreen stakes. Straight through the heart. That should get rid of them."

"Perfect. Thank God you called. Just in time, too."

"You three doing ok?"

"Yeah, we are. It's just Christmas, you know. Sometimes things get a little tricky around Christmas. I wish I could make it home to be with you," she said with a regretful sigh. Dean's chest rose and lowered with each breath, calming her in addition to talking with the man who was basically her father. She loved the solid feeling of Dean's arms around her.

"You'll be home soon, and I'll make my fried chicken and cranberry sauce then. Ain't Christmas without that."

"Yeah. I'll call you after we waste these sons of bitches, ok?"

"Alright. See ya, Ari."

"Bye, Bobby." Ariel hung the phone up and put it back in her pocket. She looked up at Dean and forced herself to smile. "I'm ok. We can go back."

"You sure?" Dean cautiously asked. She nodded quickly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. We have some evergreen stakes that we need to make. According to Bobby, stick 'em right through the heart, and those gods are our bitches."

"That's all I need to hear!" Dean chirped. She started to move away from him, but he quickly took hold of her wrist and pulled her back to him. She was surprised to find herself tucked under his arm, but she closed her eyes as he kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering there an extra few seconds as he breathed slowly and softly.

"Sam's worried about you," he said finally. She pulled back and didn't look at him, shrugging as she took his hand in hers. The cold air had numbed her palms, and she gripped his hand tightly in an effort to warm her skin up again.

"He shouldn't be worrying about me," she responded. "We're both worried about _you_." She waited for him to reply that they didn't need to, he'd go to Hell, he was just fine, he didn't need their interference, etc., but he surprised her by not saying anything at all like that.

"I know," he said quietly. But he gave her hand an extra tight squeeze, and he offered her a half-smile that made her want to die, cry, and kiss him all at the same time. But she didn't. She just smiled at him because that was all she could muster up for him.

* * *

Dean was usually the lock picking prodigy, but he had to admit that he was impressed by how quickly and efficiently Ariel had just picked the lock to the Carrigans' house. She looked back at him and winked.

"You owe me 10 bucks," she whispered under her breath to him. He rolled his eyes, knowing that she'd won the bet that she could pick a lock faster than he could. She smirked but then took a step into the house. He and Sam followed her. For someone who'd spent a good 20 minutes bawling out in the woods, she was very emotionally sound and stable. She'd cleaned herself up when she'd gotten back to the motel, and she'd very calmly begun making plans about where to find the evergreen branches and how they were going to make stakes out of them. He'd seen Sam's curious face as he'd taken in the sight of Ariel's swollen cheeks and red eyes, and he'd looked towards Dean for some kind of nonverbal answer, but he hadn't said anything about it.

Dean spotted the couch in the living room, and he looked back at Sam while also touching Ariel's arm and directing her attention over to the couch. "See? Plastic."

The three hunters began splitting up, moving around the house as they took in the sights about them. Ariel liked Christmas, but this was even too much Christmas for her. She wrinkled her nose as all the Christmas decorations, scents, and sounds overwhelmed her. Following her nose, she found herself in the kitchen with Sam across from her. They made eye contact, and she pointed towards the baked goods on the table, giving him a thumbs up. He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. Ok, sure, there was a lot of Christmas shit in the Carrigan household, but baked goods always did her in.

It was a shame that the Carrigans were pagan gods; they'd seemed so nice earlier that day when she, Sam, and Dean had approached them about the wreathes. Sure enough, Madge Carrigan had been the one to make the meadowsweet wreathes, and Sam had discovered that she and Mr. Carrigan had moved the year before after a couple had disappeared around Christmas time. Definitely pagan gods.

"Hey, Dean," Sam suddenly said quietly. Ariel followed the direction of his flashlight and saw a door with a lock on it. Dean came up behind her.

"Yahtzee," she murmured.

"Alright, then, what're we waiting for?" Dean asked. At that, Sam unlocked the door, and all three hunters began their descent into the basement. It didn't take more than a few steps before the smell hit Ariel so hard in the face that she stopped dead in her tracks, causing Dean to bump into her from behind.

"Fuck, that smells awful," she groaned. She'd always hated the smell of blood, and the smells of death and blood were definitely down there in that basement. She glanced over her shoulder at Dean, who made a grossed out face, and she continued descending, one foot in front of the other.

She waved her flashlight around, and then the beam spotlighted a bowl with bones and blood in it. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

The three hunters moved their flashlights around, and with each sweep of light, they only found more and more blood and gore. Dean occasionally glanced over at Ariel and saw her disgusted faces getting increasingly creative as her flashlight would unveil some new, bloody horror. He knew that she was just as used to blood and guts as he and Sam were, but she definitely didn't hide the fact that she didn't like looking at it.

She crossed over to a bag in the corner. Half of her didn't want to know what was inside it, but the other half of her knew she needed to get closer to ID it just in case it could be anything useful in helping them take down the gods. Slowly, she eased forward, her light trained on the bag when suddenly the bag began to move. She leapt forward, but a hand closed around her throat, and she found that she was being lifted into the air. Her windpipe was closing, and she desperately clawed at the hand to get it away from her.

"Ariel!" Dean shouted.

Ariel was looking into the face of Madge Carrigan, the owner of the hand, as Dean and Sam were simultaneously knocked out by her husband. Grunts and sounds of protest escaped Ariel's throat as she tried to get free.

"Gosh, I wish you three hadn't come down here," Madge said sweetly, and before Ariel knew it, Madge had smashed the back of her head against the concrete of the wall behind her, and she saw blackness.

* * *

Ariel heard someone calling her name, and she jolted awake, wincing at the pain in the back of her head.

"Ar? You ok?" Dean was asking.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Are you guys ok?" she asked.

"Uh, I think so," Sam said with a grimace. Ariel's eyes began to adjust, and her consciousness began to become more clear as she looked around her in a wild attempt to figure out where she was. Her hands were tied down to the arms of a chair, and she was seated with her back to Dean and Sam, where she was in between the two brothers.

"Goddammit," she sighed, realizing that they were trapped.

"So I guess we're dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God," Sam quipped from behind her to her right. "Nice to know."

"Incoming, guys," Ariel muttered as Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan waltzed into the room. The couple didn't look sinister at all; instead, they looked genuinely happy and excited to see the three hunters in their kitchen. Their expressions showed that they viewed Sam, Dean, and Ariel as guests instead of, well, captives.

"Ooo, and here we thought you three sleepyheads were gonna sleep straight through the fun stuff," Madge said with a giggle, crossing farther into the kitchen.

"Miss all this? Nah, we're partiers," Ariel responded sarcastically.

Mr. Carrigan took a drag from his pipe. "Isn't she a kick in the pants, honey? You're hunters is what you are."

"And you're pagan gods," Dean snapped. "So, why don't we call it even and go our separate ways?"

"What, so you can bring more hunters and kill us? I don't think so." Mr. Carrigan let out a laugh.

"Maybe you should've thought about that before you went snacking on humans now, huh?" Sam said darkly.

"Oh, no, don't get all wet," Mr. Carrigan jovially replied. Ariel wasn't in a good position where she could see him, but she desperately wanted to shoot the god one of her infamous Easton glares.

"Oh, why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year, and that's fact!" Madge interjected. She put a napkin on Dean's lap. "Now what do we take? What, two? Three?" She crossed in front of Ariel, putting a napkin on her lap and smiling sweetly at the girl before moving to Sam to place his napkin on him.

"Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew here make six!" Mr. Carrigan chirped. Madge looked up at him in joy and then back down at Sam.

"Now, that's not so bad, is it?" she cooed.

"Well, you say it like that—I guess you two are the Cunninghams," Dean said shortly.

"You, mister, better show us a little respect. Look at the girl—she's being all nice and quiet and plenty respectful," Mr. Carrigan warned. Ariel visibly rolled her eyes.

"And what if we don't? You'll eat us?" Sam asked with a cheeky smile on his face.

"Not so fast. There's rituals to be followed first," Mr. Carrigan easily replied.

"Oh, we're just sticklers for ritual!" Madge exclaimed in excitement.

"And you know what kicks off the whole shebang?" Mr. Carrigan asked.

"Let me guess…meadowsweet," Ariel answered with a sigh from her tied down position.

"Oh!" Madge confirmed with an impressed look in her eyes as she took in the sight of the blonde hunter.

"Oh, shucks, you're all out of wreaths. I guess we'll just have to cancel the sacrifice, huh?" Ariel asked innocently, widening her navy blue eyes to make her look more innocent and child-like. She thanked a god she didn't believe in for the fact that she sometimes looked younger than she actually was because it occasionally came in handy.

"Oh, don't be such a gloomy Gus, dear," Madge cheerfully fussed. Suddenly, Ariel found a wreath around her neck, and she let out a groan. "There. Ohhh, don't they just look darling? That meadowsweet looks beautiful with your eyes, sweetheart."

"Good enough to eat!" Mr. Carrigan smacked his lips. Ariel felt sick to her stomach. "Alrighty roo—step number two!" He crossed over to Sam. Ariel craned her neck to see what was happening.

"What—what are you doing?" she asked frantically. She caught sight of a bowl in Mr. Carrigan's hand, and a bowl usually meant that there was a knife involved, and she began whipping around in her seat. Her movements set Dean trying to see, too.

"Sammy? Sammy!" he shouted in panic. Sam let out a loud cry, and Ariel began fighting her bindings.

"Stop!" she shouted. "Sam!"

"Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!" Dean shouted gruffly.

"Hear how they talk to us? Well, except for the girl. She's not that bad," Mr. Carrigan said loudly over their cries. "To gods? Listen, pal, back in the day we were worshipped by millions.

"Times have changed!" Ariel shouted.

"Tell me about it," Mr. Carrigan said with a sigh. "All of a sudden, this Jesus Christ character is the hot new thing in town. All of a sudden, our altars are being burned down, and we're being hunted down like common monsters."

"But did we say a peep? Oh, ho, ho, no, no, no! We did not. Two millennium. We kept a low profile; we got jobs, a mortgage. Wh—what was that word, dear?" Madge asked.

"We assimilated."

"Yeah, we assimilated. Why, we play Bridge on Tuesday and Fridays. We're just like everybody else." She held up a knife, smiling at Ariel. Ariel felt her muscles tense as the gleam of the knife seemed to be directed right towards her. She hadn't been able to see what they'd done to Sam, but she sure as hell didn't want it done to her.

"You're not blending in as smooth as you think, lady," Dean growled at Madge. The woman crossed him, smiling fondly at him as she knelt down in front of Ariel. Alarm filled Dean's chest, and he tried to turn towards the action. "What the fuck are you doing to her?"

"This might pinch a bit, dear," Madge said with a soft smile to Ariel. Ariel's eyes were wide.

"Don't!" she cried. "Don't touch me!"

The knife bit into her skin, and she closed her eyes and cried out in pain. Her ears clouded over, but she was sure that Dean was screaming her name and a whole slew of cuss words at the gods. The cut was over as soon as it'd begun, but the sting was there, and she breathed raggedly against the pain, her teeth gritted as she stared with hate-filled eyes at the god. The god moved to Dean, doing the same thing to him. Ariel shut her eyes as Dean's pained shouts resonated in her ears.

"You bitch!" he shouted.

"Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar. Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing?" Madge asked pleasantly. "Fudge."

"I'll try and remember that," Dean breathlessly replied.

"You three have no idea how lucky you are," Mr. Carrigan interjected as he picked up something that Ariel couldn't quite see. "There was a time when kids came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are."

"What do you think you're doing with those?" The panic in Sam's voice alerted Ariel, and she began fighting against the ropes. However, the pain in her arm slowed her down, and she wound up just weakly struggling and gritting her teeth.

"Ariel, what's happening?" Dean asked in a panic.

"I can't see!" she responded.

"You fudging touch me again, and I'll fudging kill you!" Dean shouted towards Madge.

"Very good!" Madge crowed. Dean let out another shout of pain as Madge began cutting his other arm. She paused and looked at Ariel. "Oh, don't worry, honey. We'll be getting you next! You'll be a part of all the fun, too."

"No. No. Don't," Sam was gasping out in Ariel's right ear. Panic struck her as she listened to Dean and Sam both crying out; there was nothing she could do. She was literally tied down, and she couldn't save either one of them. Despite the pain she was in, she had a flashback to the Furies when they had Elliot, and there'd been nothing she could've done to save him. Sam's sudden scream of pain made the memory worse, and she was again struggling to get free.

"Oh, we got a winner!" Mr. Carrigan announced, holding up a fingernail. Ariel couldn't hide her disgusted face, and she grimaced at it. Mr. Carrigan laughed when he saw her expression. "Oh, don't look so green."

"What else, dear?" Madge asked.

"Well, let's see…uh, fingernail, blood…oh!" Mr. Carrigan smacked his head with the flat of his palm. "Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick! I forgot the tooth."

"Oh, dear!" Madge regretfully intoned.

"Merry Christmas, Sam," Dean grunted from his chair. Suddenly, Madge was in front of Ariel, and she was grabbing her chin.

"Open wide…and say, 'Ah!'" she exclaimed. Immediately, Ariel began flailing around to get free, but the god's grip was too strong. The pliers were in her mouth, and she was fighting hard. And then the doorbell rang. Everyone froze, suddenly silent as they heard the sound.

"Suh-one gonna ge' tha'?" Ariel asked, the pliers still in her mouth. "'oo shoul' ge' tha'."

"Come on," Mr. Carrigan said with a sigh. Madge smiled down at Ariel, wrinkling her nose as she pulled the pliers out and set them on the table behind the hunter. Without another word, the gods were gone.

"Sam? Sam, are you ok?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, I guess. For the moment," he groaned. She could hear the sounds of the gods talking with someone on the front porch, but she couldn't hear what they were saying.

"Ok. I have a plan," she said.

"What? _Now_ you have a plan?" Dean groaned.

"Shut up," she snapped. In her frantic endeavor to get free, she'd managed to loosen the ties on her right hand. She slipped her hand out, grabbing the knife from her waistband to cut her other bonds off. Quickly and silently, she moved to Dean and Sam and cut theirs off.

"Come on," Dean said, giving Sam a onceover and inwardly wincing at the bleeding spot where Sam's index fingernail used to be. The three silently slipped into another room. Ariel gestured to Sam to get one door, and she and Dean would get the other. They waited for the gods to come back.

"Now where were we?" she heard Madge say. And then Sam slammed his door, and she and Dean slammed theirs, trapping the gods inside the kitchen that they'd just escaped from. She could feel the doors pounding hard into their backs as Madge and Mr. Carrigan realized that they were now the ones being trapped. Dean pulled out the drawer to keep the door shut, and he and Ariel took off to the living room, where they found Sam still struggling to keep the door shut.

"What do we do now? The evergreen stakes are in the basement!" Dean shouted over the sounds of the gods' protests.

"Well, we need more evergreen, Dean!" Sam shouted back.

"Guys! I think I just found us some more," Ariel interjected, pointing towards the Christmas tree.

"You're perfect," Dean remarked with a grin. She shrugged briefly as Sam realized that the Christmas tree was, indeed, an evergreen tree.

"Help me get this!" Sam called, gesturing towards the large cabinet by the door. Dean began pushing the cabinet while Ariel started tugging branches off the tree. The gods were suddenly quiet as the cabinet slid into place. Her heart pounded in her chest with the adrenaline as she made sure that the points of the branches where she'd broken the branches off were sharp enough to pierce a body.

"Sam!" she called to get the younger Winchester's attention. He turned towards her, and he caught the branch she threw to him. Dean reached out and caught his as she rushed over to join them. They neared the door and paused at the sudden silence.

"Uh oh," Ariel breathed. In that instant, Mr. Carrigan let out a war cry and tackled Dean to the ground. Dean went down with a thud and a grunt as he hit the floor of the Carrigans' house. As her head whipped back in front of her, she was face to face with Madge.

"You little thing," the god cooed. Her face contorted in anger. "I loved that tree."

With that, her fist collided with Ariel's face, and Ariel was down on the ground. She was momentarily stunned, and she saw that Madge hadn't considered her enough of a threat to stick around as she began to battle with Sam. Ariel painfully struggled back to her feet, looking around in panic as she realized she didn't have her evergreen branch.

"Madge!" Mr. Carrigan screamed. Ariel didn't stop to look, instead leaping towards the branch that she'd dropped when Madge had punched her. Mr. Carrigan's face twisted with rage, and he began to advance on Dean, who was on his knees from having also been punched by Madge. Not wasting any time, Ariel advanced on him; he didn't see her, and he didn't notice her until she'd shoved the evergreen branch through his chest.

He dropped to the ground as Dean rolled away to avoid being hit. Dean looked up at Ariel with another impressed look.

"Thanks," he said. She grinned and reached out to him, offering him her hand. He grabbed it and allowed her to pull him up. He looked over towards Sam and found his younger brother on his feet, alive, and breathing hard as he surveyed the dead bodies of the gods in front of them. Sam looked up and met Dean's eyes.

"Merry Christmas," he said. Dean was still for a moment, but then he smiled. If Christmas meant that they killed some gods and saved some people, that was ok for him. He put a hand on Ariel's shoulder as she drew closer to him. That was definitely enough for him.

* * *

Ariel leaned back against the couch as she opened Elliot's gift. Every year she and Elliot agreed that they wouldn't get each other something for Christmas, but they always broke that agreement and bought something. On a hunter's budget, they never got each other anything extravagant, but it was always more than enough. She took the last piece of wrapping paper off and beamed brightly up at her partner, who was seated on the couch to her left.

"No way!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "You didn't!"

"Dude, you needed them."

"I can't—Ell—no way!" Ariel held up the pair of Timberlands that'd been so ungracefully wrapped by Elliot. It'd been a running joke between them that she never wore Timberlands because they were so boyish, and he'd actually bought her a pair of the horrid boots for Christmas. She couldn't contain her laughter, and she shook her head. "I seriously can't believe you got me a pair of these awful things."

"Hey—they come in handy. Now when we're going to do a job that's a bit bloody or messy, you can have those, and you won't have to throw away any more of your shoes. Come on, A, you _needed_ a pair. Every damn hunter has them," Elliot protested. She sighed and looked at them, cradling them in her lap.

"I guess so," she said.

"He's right. Can't be a hunter without boots like that," Bobby interjected as he lifted his own feet to show off his similar boots. Ariel stuck her tongue out at him, and he stuck his back at her, meriting a smile from the blonde hunter. She looked down at the boots again and smiled at them.

"I guess they're not that bad," she said. "I'll only wear them since you got them for me."

"You'll be _thanking_ me," Elliot crowed cheerfully as he smacked her on the shoulder. "But I think we did good this year. Don't you?" He held up a handful of flannel shirts and a small stack of books that Ariel had gotten for him. Bobby had given him a new machete, something he'd very much needed, and a few valuable talismans. Ariel had gotten similar things from both Elliot and Bobby, though the most special object she'd received had definitely been the boots. She looked around the floor, beaming at her protection charms, lore books, silver bullets, and sweaters; this was the best Christmas she ever could've hoped to have. But she thought that every Christmas. Each one just seemed to get better and better.

She picked up her glass of wine that was next to her and took a sip, happily beaming up at Elliot and Bobby. Her life wasn't perfect—she missed having a normal life, but she knew that she wouldn't wish for anything to be different. Except for her brother. She'd wish for Scott to be with them because he deserved it the most out of all of her dead family members.

"Thanks, guys," she said out loud, her voice happy and thoughtful. "This was everything I needed and wanted."

"Always getting sappy on us," Bobby said gruffly from his armchair with an eye roll. "But it _was_ a good time with you two."

"I don't wanna go back on the road just yet," Elliot added with a sigh. "It seems like we just finished our last job. Feels like we never get a break."

"Don't bellyache about that to _me_," Bobby snorted. "You two are the ones always running around trying to save people. No one's making you run yourselves ragged."

"My ass," Elliot retorted with his own snort. "If only monsters understood what a break was—then we'd get a break."

"What he's trying to say is that we're stubborn," Ariel added.

"I'll say," Bobby replied. "But you might as well lay low here for a few days. There's plenty of fried chicken and cranberry sauce left over, and there's no sense in letting me eat the whole damn thing myself."

"I ain't gonna argue with that." Ariel lifted her glass. "First job we take, Ell, I'm wearing these boots."

Elliot laughed. "Watch you wear them, and it's not even a dirty job."

"It better be! I'm not gonna wear them for fashion's sake!"

"If that were the case, I'd be fashionista of the year," Bobby quipped. Ariel snickered and downed another swallow of her wine.

"Then I guess I'm terribly out of style," she said.

"Trust me—you'll be wearing no other shoes but those boots by this time next Christmas," Elliot said smugly.

"Challenge accepted." Ariel swallowed more wine, thinking about how happy she was going to be when she proved Elliot wrong—she was always proving him wrong, and she wasn't about to let him start now. As she lowered her glass, she looked back and forth between Bobby and Elliot again. Both men had picked up one of the books that she'd given them, and they were both flipping through the pages. Elliot was studying a drawn image of a pair of Native American gods, and Bobby was reading the words of the old journal she'd bought off of another hunter to give to Bobby. She took a mental snapshot of the sight before her, unsure when she'd be able to see that kind of peace in her two favorite men again. She'd just have to wait until next Christmas.

* * *

Ariel was drawn out of her memory as she finished hanging the sign in the motel. She stepped back and admired her work. "Hey, Sam, check it out."

"Perfect!" Sam delightedly exclaimed as he looked at where she'd hung it. "Think he has any idea?"

She scoffed. "Hell no. He never knows when you and I plot together about anything. I'm just glad we were able to pull this stuff together in like, half an hour. Especially considering how you decided you wanted to surprise him half an hour ago."

"You'd be surprised about how not hard it is to snag a Christmas tree around this time of year," Sam replied with a grin. He looked around the room, beaming at their decorations. "I hope he's surprised."

"Of course he'll be surprised. You've been snipping and sniping about Christmas for the past few days," Ariel answered teasingly. His expression looked a little sheepish as he stole a look at her.

"Yeah, well…it's not just about me," he said. His voice was serious, an almost apology for snapping at her the other day without quite voicing it. She nodded, showing that she understood, and she smiled softly at him.

"I think this'll mean a lot to him," she said and let out a small laugh. "Get me an eggnog, would you? I don't want to get all sappy and start crying again."

Sam clapped her on the shoulder as he crossed to the motel fridge and opened up a bottle of eggnog. She eagerly accepted it from him as he walked back into the main part of the room and stood to admire the tree again. Her chest was full with excitement and anticipation; everything had been so last minute. Sam had asked Dean to do a run to the liquor store around the corner for some beer and wine, and that usually meant that Dean was gone for a long time to make sure that he got right choices of what he was looking for. That'd left enough time for Sam and Ariel to scramble around and get the decorations. It'd been a close call, but everything was done. As a final touch, she turned on Ella Fitzgerald singing one of her favorite Christmas songs, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." Nothing was like a sad Christmas song, Ariel thought.

The door to the room opened, and she and Sam turned around to find Dean huddling against the cold as he walked into the room. He had a bag looped over one arm, and he stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he caught sight of the newly transformed room.

"Hey! You get the beer?" Sam asked casually as Dean shut the door and curiously took a step forward.

"And the wine!" Ariel added. "You got the wine, too, right?"

"What's all this?" Dean asked, walking farther into the room, his green eyes scanning over everything as he approached Ariel and Sam.

"What do you think it is?" Sam asked. "It's—it's Christmas!"

Dean carefully looked at his brother, and he studied Sam. His eyes darted over to Ariel, who was beaming up at him with excited expectation written all over her face. He couldn't help smiling as he looked at her; turning back to his brother, he looked confused.

"What made you change your mind?" he asked, but there was a happy look to his face that made Sam silently breathe a sigh of relief to see; Dean was pleased, and that was all he'd been hoping for.

"Here," Sam said and held out some eggnog. "Uh…try the eggnog. Let me know if it needs some more kick."

Ariel reached out and grabbed a bottle of whiskey as if to show what the "kick" was and where to find it. Dean took the cup from Sam's hand and carefully took a swallow of it. He coughed and lowered the cup from his lips.

"No, we're good," he said in appreciative surprise.

"Yeah?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." Dean looked at his little brother, unsure of what to make of all this. When Sam looked away, Dean kind of choked on the eggnog. Ariel caught sight of it, and she smiled, stifling her laughter. His eyes landed on her, and he sent her a subtle wink. She looked so damn happy.

"Good. Well, uh, have a seat. Let's do…Christmas stuff or whatever. Ar, what do you and Bobby do for Christmas?" Sam asked, sitting down on one of the chairs that he'd pulled by the tree in the motel and looking at her with an almost desperate, pleading look as he realized that he didn't know what came next and needed help. Ariel sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to her for Dean to sit.

"Gifts. Drinking, admiring the tree, and gifts," she confirmed. She watched Dean observe the tree, smiling at its decorations of lights and car fresheners. He sat beside her, his thigh touching hers.

"Alright. First thing's first," he said. He pulled out two packages wrapped in brown paper bag paper from the inside of his leather jacket and held them out to Sam. "Merry Christmas, Sam."

"Where'd you get these?" Sam asked as he smiled at Dean.

"Someplace special," Dean answered vaguely. Sam continued to stare at him. "The gas mart down the street. Open them up."

"Well, great minds think alike, Dean," Sam said as he pulled out two packages wrapped in newspaper and handed them to Dean. He pulled out another two, also wrapped in newspaper, and passed them to Ariel, whose face changed from happy to highly amused.

"And we must be pretty great if all three of us thought the same thing," Ariel added, bringing out four packages wrapped in plastic bags. She handed two to Dean and two to Sam.

"Wow. No wonder we work so well together," Dean remarked with a laugh as he accepted her gifts. He looked at Sam expectantly and gestured with his hand. "Go on!"

Sam grinned, but he opened the first gift. Laughter bubbled out of his mouth as he held up two porn magazines. Dean had an impish grin on his own face, and he winked at Ariel when she turned to him with her eyebrows lifted in an amused expression.

"Skin mags!" Sam exclaimed. Dean nodded, satisfied with Sam's happiness. Sam set them down and opened the second gift. "And…shaving cream!"

"You like?" Dean asked. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, I do," he said. He looked at Ariel. "Do I get to open yours now?"

She gave him a thumbs up, urging him on. He opened up the first one to find a paperback romance novel with a pirate on the cover, his hair blowing back in the breeze.

"Did you get this because the guy has long hair like me?" he asked the blonde hunter. She shrugged guiltily.

"Yep. Caught me," she said. He laughed and opened the second gift, happily holding up a pack of 10 blue ink pens.

"You know me so well," he said, looking appreciatively at her. "Thanks, Ar. Dean, it's your turn."

Dean took the newspaper wrapping off his, chuckling as he lifted the gifts in the air for the two to see. "Fuel for me and fuel for my baby. Well, my baby on wheels." He gazed at the candy bar and bottle of oil in his hands. "These are awesome. Thanks."

"Now mine," Ariel urged, tucking her legs up underneath her. Dean held her plastic bag-wrapped gifts and opened them. In his hands, he held extra shoelaces and car polish. He let out an appreciative groan.

"I always need shoelaces and car polish. How'd you know, baby?" he asked and leaned forward to kiss her chastely on the lips. She smiled and ran a hand through his hair when he pulled back. "Now it's your turn to open gifts. Mine last."

She gave him a curious look, but she didn't say anything. Sam looked almost shy as she opened his, her smile sparkling as she pulled out a king size chocolate bar and a marble-covered composition book.

"Sam, thank you," she said happily. "I've been meaning to record some of our past jobs, but I've been forgetting."

"Yeah, I remember you saying that, so I thought you could use a notebook," Sam answered sheepishly, his hazel eyes looking extra puppy-like in the light coming off of the Christmas tree.

"Well, I love both of them. Chocolate is always perfect," she said. Then she looked at Dean. "Alright. Now yours." He smiled at her, but he didn't say anything, waiting for her to open his. When she opened the first one, she tilted her head in confusion. She was holding a picture frame. She looked up at him, but he nodded, urging her on. She had no idea why on Earth he'd give her picture frame—not that she minded or anything.

And then she opened the second gift.

A disposable camera.

"Dean," she said softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. He didn't quite look at her, instead choosing to look at her hands, almost afraid to look her in the eyes. She moved closer to him and drew his chin up so that he was forced to look at her straight on. "A camera?"

"For pictures," he said lamely. "If you wanted, at some point we could—pictures—if you—um—"

"Thank you," she said, cutting him off. With a quick laugh, she set her gifts down on the ground and looked at the brothers. "I might be in a motel room, but this is a really great Christmas because I'm spending it with two people who're basically like family. Shit—now I'm getting emotional." She laughed shakily and waved Dean off; he'd moved closer to comfort her, but she shook her head. "These are happy tears."

"You had me scared for a moment," Dean said, stretching his arm over her shoulder.

"No, no. I'm just—I'm happy. I'm having a Winchester Christmas," she said. She picked up the disposable camera and film inside their cardboard box and turned them over in her hands. "And then we get back home, you guys can help Bobby and me have an Easton-Singer Christmas. Speaking of, I'm gonna call him real quick. I'll be back."

Before either brother could say anything, she'd leapt up and run out the door, even taking the camera and film with her without having realized it. She hadn't been lying when she'd said that she was happy because she was—she was happy. But there was an undeniable undertone of sadness throughout that whole exchange, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. She leaned against one of the posts that held up the balconies of the rooms above her, and she punched in the speed dial number that called Bobby.

"What?" The gruff voice answered. She smiled tearfully at the familiar tone.

"Bobby, it's me," she said shakily into the phone. "I wanted to give you a call and let you know that, um, we're all right. We're all ok, and the gods are dead."

"Well, that's a relief," Bobby said with a sigh. "I was wondering if you were gonna let me spend Christmas Eve worrying about you and those boys."

"No. No, of course not. I'm sorry I can't be home with you right now." Her voice betrayed the sadness and the heaviness in it, and she blinked back tears at how much she missed him and how much she knew she would be missing Dean next Christmas.

"Ari, you'll be home soon. Are you sure you're ok?" Bobby asked, his voice serious. Ariel was silent, unsure of what to say. If she said yes, Bobby would know she was lying, but if she said no, she knew she'd be giving into a vulnerable part of herself that she didn't want to admit existed.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ok," she said, but her trembling voice gave her away. Hot tears fell from her eyes, and she viciously wiped them away.

"Fuck that, Ariel," Bobby scoffed. "You sound as ok as a bear with its paw in a trap."

She weakly laughed, knowing she was caught. "I know. It's just…it's harder than I thought it'd be, you know?"

"Being with Dean Winchester is _always_ harder than it seems," Bobby said fondly, knowing exactly what she was talking about without her needing to say so.

"And it's not just that, too. On top of that, I've been thinking a lot about our Christmases, and that last one with Elliot and—"

"You're gonna let those thoughts kill you, girl," Bobby softly sighed.

"I know. I know…I just always think about him around Christmas time. And it's getting worse with Dean's deal looming over our shoulders. That last Christmas with Elliot, I didn't know it was my last one with him. But with Dean…I know that this is it. Bobby, he gave me a disposable camera and a picture frame as my Christmas gift."

"I never would've thought that little shit was sentimental."

Ariel laughed, despite her tears. "He's full of surprises."

"Sometimes that's a damn awful thing. Now you get off the phone with me, and you get back to him, do you hear me? Spend as much time as you can with him. You'll be home within the next few days, and we'll have our fried chicken and cranberry sauce, and the boys'll be there with us, too. But right now, you need to get your scrawny ass back," Bobby said in his usual gruff tone. Ariel wiped her face again, and she smiled.

"Yeah, I hear you. Merry Christmas, Bobby."

"Merry Christmas, Ariel. I'll see you soon."

"See you." She hung up the phone and sighed openly, staring out into the night. Surprisingly, she felt somewhat better, though she almost always did after she talked to Bobby. Her chest didn't feel so tight, and tears no longer threatened to come pouring down her face. She'd only cried a little bit, so she wouldn't have to worry too much about Dean and Sam noticing that her eyes were wet when she went back inside.

She turned around and started to go back inside when she paused. Looking at the camera still in her hand, she opened it and put the film in. A smile lingered across her face as she thought about Dean taking the time to purchase this in the gas shop for her—he'd put a lot of thought into it, she could tell, and that made her heart melt. Once the film was in and the camera working, she opened the door. Dean and Sam both turned to look at her as she took a step through the doorway and shut the door, crossing closer towards the brothers. As she moved right in front of him, Dean's face lit up, his piercing green eyes turning soft, and the smile on his mouth making him look so young Ariel couldn't find a trace of worry or pain in his face. Lifting the camera to her face, she took a picture of him. She wanted to capture that look on his face forever.

He opened his mouth to protest, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her down to the couch with him. She laughed as he went to nuzzle the side of her face but jumped back when he felt her cold skin.

"Warm me up," she said, scooting closer to him.

He sighed dramatically. "The things I do for you. Now hush, the game's on."

She curled up to him, setting the camera on the ground, and eagerly accepted the warmth that his body radiated. Sam caught her eye, and in that one look they exchanged, they both silently exchanged a mutual sorrow and a mutual happiness they would always remember. Dean looked on, oblivious to everything but the feeling of Christmas, the football game that was playing on the TV, and the idea that he might know what it was like to be loved by a blonde girl who hunted demons.


	21. Roots

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* * *

Chapter 21

Sam was a lot of things, but pitiful was something that Sam rarely was. But as Dean looked as his little brother swaying around on the barstool with a glass of whiskey in his hand, the only word that came to his mind was "pitiful."

"Jesus," Ariel mumbled next to him. He glanced at her and saw her staring worriedly at the younger Winchester. Sam had been growing increasingly more depressed as he and Ariel hadn't made any more progress on getting Dean out of his deal; Ariel chose to keep her grief locked inside her, while Sam had apparently chosen to let it out with alcohol. _To each his own demons_, she thought to herself.

"There you are. What are you doing?" Dean demanded as he reached Sam's side. Sam turned to him, his eyes not quite focusing on his older brother. His hazel eyes caught sight of Ariel, and he gave her a tipsy smile and a wave.

"Having a drink," he answered Dean, shrugging sullenly as his mood seemed to drop again when looking at his brother.

"It's two in the afternoon. You're drinking whiskey?" Dean asked incredulously.

"I drink whiskey all the time," Sam protested.

"No, you don't!" Dean argued. Ariel took a few steps back; this was one of those moments that wasn't for her eyes. Things couldn't have stayed good forever—she'd known that all along, but it was still frustrating to watch it all go sour. It didn't seem like it'd only been a few weeks ago since she, Sam, and Dean had gone back to Bobby's and had their own modest little Christmas. Bobby had made his usual fried chicken and canned cranberry sauce, and they'd all had a little too much to drink and stayed up a little too late.

Interestingly enough, she'd been somewhat inspired by Dean's gift to her, and she'd bought Bobby a photo album for him to keep all of his pictures in; he'd been bitching for years about how he was tired of keeping them in boxes, so when Dean had given her the camera and picture frame, she figured it was time to get Bobby a huge photo album so he could keep his records of his life neat and clean. What she didn't know just yet was that Bobby had set straight to work on filling his photo album, and so far, he'd put in all the pictures of her growing up at his house.

In return, Bobby had given her more lore books—those were a typical Christmas or birthday gift, but Ariel loved them so it was always exciting for her to receive them—and he'd even bought her a few scarves since she'd been complaining about how she didn't have any. The thought had touched her; Bobby wasn't exactly the type to go shopping for scarves and "fashion shit," but he'd gone out and gotten her a few scarves that she loved and had already worn several times since then.

Easton-Singer Christmas was never disappointing, and Ariel was only glad that she'd gotten to share it with Dean and Sam. Really, she didn't know which brother she was more glad had gotten to experience it: Dean, because it was his last Christmas, and it would be a lovely memory of a last Christmas for him to have, or Sam, because he'd never really had a family Christmas in a house before, and it was his first time experiencing something like it. Nevertheless, it had been a fulfilling time for everyone, and they'd gone back on the job a few days later, much to all four hunters' disappointments.

"What's the big deal? You get sloppy in bars, you hit on chicks all the time. Why can't I?" Sam was protesting. Ariel couldn't help lifting her eyebrows and glancing at Dean at that. Her hunter boyfriend looked over his shoulder at her with a helpless look on his face before turning around to glare at Sam.

"Dude, you know I don't do that anymore," he hissed. Sam stared levelly—as levelly as he could—at Dean.

"But you've done it for years. Why can't I?" he repeated. Dean looked around the bar, his eyes landing on one woman who appeared way too old for Sam, before looking back at his brother.

"It's kind of slim pickings around here," he said. "If you look over there, you have a woman who could be your mother, and if you look over here, you have my girlfriend, who you cannot hit on. What's going on with you?" The concern and irritation mingled together in Dean's tone, making him sound more pissed than either concerned or irritated. Sam looked totally dejected, shaking his head back and forth as he was absorbed in his own thoughts.

"I tried, Dean," he said quietly. The tone of his voice made Ariel's chest tighten. Even though she was only a year older than Sam, and he was over a foot taller than she was, she somehow thought of him as a little puppy. The thought of him sad or in pain made her physically hurt and want to protect him. His hazel eyes looked up at Dean as if Dean could save the world.

"To do what?" Dean asked, confused. She mentally rolled her eyes. For someone who was so fucking smart, Dean could really be totally fucking clueless.

"To save you," Sam continued in that broken, lost voice. Dean looked back at Ariel, the look on his face saying, "Take a seat, we're going to be here a while." He sat down on the stool as she crossed to the one on Sam's other side and sat down next to him.

"Can I get a whiskey?" Dean asked the bartender. "Double, neat."

"I'd like a glass of pinot grigio," Ariel spoke up. The bartender, a male, grinned at her and winked.

"Of course, sweetheart," he replied. Dean's face turned from somewhat pleasant to pissed off, but he didn't say anything. He just glared at the bartender before directing his attention back to his brother.

"I'm serious, Dean," Sam insisted, his gaze settling on the green-eyed hunter.

"No, you're drunk," Dean replied without missing a beat.

"I mean, where you're going…what you're gonna become," Sam said brokenly. His warm eyes seemed to fill with tears, and he blinked hard. "I can't stop it. _We_ can't stop it." He looked at Ariel. "I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But, really, the thing is, no one can save you."

"What I've been telling you," Dean said, trying hard not to say I-told-you-so while obviously saying I-told-you-so. He ignored the look that Ariel was giving him from her position on the other side of Sam.

"No, that's not what I mean," Sam protested. "I mean, no one can save you because you don't want to be saved." He paused. "I mean, how can you care so little about yourself?"

"What?" Dean scoffed. "That's not true."

"Yes, it is," Sam insisted, his tone taking on a darker edge. "Ariel?"

"Don't bring me into it," Ariel deadpanned.

"No, I'm bringing you into it," Sam said. "He doesn't want to be saved, and you know it just as much as I do. You've said as much to me, Ar."

"You've said that?" Dean asked in disbelief over Sam. Ariel rubbed her face with her hand and sighed, closing her eyes.

"It seems like you don't want to be saved," she said evenly.

"What's wrong with you?" Sam asked. Dean was quiet, unsure of how to respond. He could deal with Ariel crying; he could deal with Ariel and Sam being angry with him; but he wasn't sure that he could deal with such direct confrontation about his own sense of self-worth. Especially not from Ariel, the one person who seemed to find real value in him aside from Sam and Bobby, who were family and were too close to the situation. Ariel's touch seemed to free him from his crippling self-doubt and unworthiness, and he couldn't bear the thought of trying to explain that to her.

But he was saved by the ringing of Ariel's phone. He quietly released a sigh of relief as she pulled her vibrating phone out of her pocket and frowned at it in confusion. Her navy blue eyes met his, and she opened the phone and answered it.

"Hello?" she said. "Yes, this is Miss Keller…What?...Where?...Yes. I'll be there immediately."

Dean didn't need to ask her to know that something was wrong. Halfway through the conversation, she'd lost all color to her face, and when she hung up, she was looking horrified and not at all like herself.

"Ar? Honey, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Bobby…he's in the hospital," she said vaguely. "I'm his emergency contact, so they called me. We've gotta go."

Without another word, Dean slapped down some money on the bar. Sam's face was drawn even deeper, and he didn't protest. He stood up and moved to the door, only stumbling the slightest bit.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked as Ariel and Dean caught up to him. Ariel's face was tight, her lips pressed together, and she shook her head.

"Don't know. Doctor didn't say. We just…we need to get there. I need to be with him." She took the backseat of the Impala without even trying to get shotgun, something that told Sam that she was more than upset if she weren't going to try for the coveted spot; it'd become something of a routine with the two of them to try to fight for it, the loser being damned to the backseat. It was more irksome for Sam than for Ariel since his legs were so much longer than hers. So when she took the back without a fight, both he and Dean knew that the sooner they got to Bobby, the better.

* * *

Ariel disliked anything that was unproductive, and she was discovering that that was basically what this conversation with the doctor was. She stood by the hospital bed of Bobby Singer, her arms folded across her chest as she stared the doctor down. Dean had his arm around her shoulders, and his thumb was rubbing her upper arm. Even though she was distressed by the entire situation, she found the gesture comforting and sweet.

"So, what's the diagnosis?" Sam asked.

"We've tested everything we can think to test. He seems perfectly healthy." The confused look on the doctor's face showed that even he was at a loss of words. Ariel raised her eyebrows.

"Except that he's comatose," she snapped. "That just…that doesn't just _happen_," she said, her pitch rising as she became more upset. "You don't have _any_ explanation whatsoever?"

"Miss Keller—"

"_Mrs._ Keller," she bitterly corrected the doctor. The doctor's eyes traveled over to Dean, noticing the hunter's arm around her shoulders, and he gave a single nod.

"I apologize, Mrs. Keller," he said firmly, "you're his emergency contact. Anything we should know? Any illnesses?"

"No, he—he never gets sick," Ariel replied quietly, looking away from the doctor and down at the floor. "I mean, he doesn't even catch cold."

"Doctor, is there anything you can do?" Dean asked. "My wife's father is the only person that she has left in her family."

"Look, I'm sorry, but we don't know what's causing it. So we don't know how to treat it. He just…went to sleep and didn't wake up," the doctor replied.

Tension filled the room, and Ariel looked down at her father figure lying in the bed. She'd rarely ever seen him unconscious, but unconscious in a hospital bed, completely unresponsive was something she'd never seen at all. She fought the helpless feeling that was growing stronger and stronger in her solar plexus, and she shook her head.

"Let's go," she said tersely. Sam frowned at her.

"What?" he asked. She didn't answer, walking out of the room with Dean following her. Sam looked at the doctor and gave him a sorrowful, apologetic look before rushing out after his brother and his brother's girlfriend. "Guys! Where are we gonna go?"

"To his motel room," Ariel replied. "If there isn't a medical explanation, it's gotta be supernatural. That's the only thing I can think of."

"But what if it's not?" Dean asked. Her blue eyes bored into his, and she shook her head sharply.

"You heard the doctor—he doesn't have any medical explanation as to why Bobby's in a coma. If there isn't a medical reason, there's a supernatural reason. You've been in this business long enough to know that I'm right," she said. Dean sighed; he knew she was right. If the doctors couldn't explain it, then there had to be something involved that was right up a hunter's alley. Whatever it was, though, had to be dangerous. He'd never come across anything like this before, and that was saying something.

* * *

As Dean pulled up to Jeremy Frost's apartment building, he was feeling a little bit more hopeful. They had a lead—Bobby had been investigating Dr. Gregg's death and what the doctor had been studying, and then he'd just kind of gone under with little to no warning. He and Ariel were taking on interviewing the last test subject of Dr. Gregg: Jeremy Frost.

He studied Ariel as he put the car in park and turned the key to shut off the engine. She'd been relatively calm all day, going along with interviewing people and helping try to solve what was wrong with Bobby. When she'd first found out about his condition, she'd freaked out, and she'd shut down on him the way she usually did whenever she got too emotionally upset, but she seemed to be doing ok now.

"How you holding up?" he asked her. She looked at him and shrugged.

"I just want answers," she said simply. "As soon as we figure out what's wrong with him, we can figure out how to fix it. I don't know why, but I have a feeling that Jeremy Frost is gonna tie into it all."

Dean remembered what Bobby had said about Ariel's intuition being spot on, meaning that she still had yet to be wrong about one of her gut feelings. If she had the feeling that Jeremy was important to what was going on with Bobby, he had to follow her on it. He nodded.

"I agree," he said. "There's something weird about all of this. Sleep study? I don't know."

"Well, let's find out," she said with a sigh. She unbuckled her seatbelt and went to get out when she stopped and turned to Dean, placing her hand on his cheek and rubbing his prominent cheekbone with her thumb. "Thanks for checking in on me."

"Well, I'm pretty, you know, rattled over it. Can't imagine how you must be feeling," he answered. "He's the closest thing I've got to a dad these days."

"He's the closest thing I've ever had to a dad," she replied softly, more to herself than to him. Her eyes scanned over his face, and she gave him a small, sad smile, as if she were remembering something about Bobby that was happy and sad all at the same time. "Come on."

He got out of the car and walked beside her up to the apartment building. They located the apartment that housed Jeremy, and they continued up the elevator and to the man's apartment. Dean knocked on the door and flipped open his FBI badge, Ariel mirroring him when Jeremy opened the door. Immediately, Jeremy's gaze landed on Ariel, and he gave her a good look up and down. Dean pretended not to notice since part of his cover was as her partner and not her boyfriend. Ariel's gaze was level, stern, and professional as she stared at the young man in front of her.

"Look, I don't know what the RA said, but, ah, I was growing ferns," Jeremy sputtered. Dean and Ariel crossed into the apartment, an amused look on Ariel's face while Dean full out chuckled at the immediate defense the kid was putting up.

"Take it easy, Phish, that's not why I'm here," he quipped.

"Really?" Jeremy asked in surprise. Dean held up the file he'd gotten from Dr. Gregg's assistant, showing that he was here on entirely different business. "Oh, thank God. Ok."

"We wanna talk to you about Dr. Gregg's sleep study," Ariel spoke up. Jeremy's eyes landed on her in that way that made her skin crawl, and she could feel Dean tensing beside her, but she kept her expression calm and cool.

"Yeah. Dr. Gregg just died, right?" Jeremy asked. She kept her eyes on his face, assessing his reaction. He seemed to be the right amount of concerned while not being distraught.

"You were one of his test subjects, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," Jeremy answered as he turned back to his fridge and pulled out three beers. He held one for himself and then held the other two out for Ariel and Dean. "Unless you're on, uh, duty or whatever."

Dean glanced at Ariel, and she gazed impassively back at him. He knew that he shouldn't, but he really wanted the beer.

"I guess I can make an exception." He reached out and took it. And even though Ariel disliked beer and much preferred wine, she took the beer from Jeremy's hand and twisted it open with her bare hands. Jeremy's eyes widened, impressed by her. She didn't react, instead gulping down a swallow of the disgusting stuff while deciding to pretend it was wine.

"Impressive," Jeremy remarked. She smiled coolly but didn't respond. Dean and Jeremy raised their bottles towards each other and then both knocked a swig back. Dean closed his green eyes as he enjoyed the taste and sting of the beer on the back of his throat; he'd never be able to understand how Ariel enjoyed wine over beer.

"Now, Dr. Gregg was testing treatments for a, uh, 'Charcot-Wilbrand' syndrome? Which means…" Dean trailed off as he expectantly waited for Jeremy to explain.

"Um…I, uh…I can't dream," Jeremy awkwardly explained. Dean gave him a confused face. "I had this bike accident when I was a kid and banged my head pretty good, and I haven't had a dream since. Till the study. You know. Sort of."

"What'd the doc give you?" Ariel asked.

"It's this yellow tea. It…it smells awful, tasted worse."

"What did it do?"

"Just passed right out. And, uh, I had the most vivid, super intense dream. Like a bad acid trip, you know?"

"Totally," Dean interjected with a grin. He suddenly caught Ariel's glare, and he cleared his throat. "I mean, no."

"That was it. I dropped out of the study right after that. I didn't…like it. To tell you the truth…it kind of scared me," Jeremy said sheepishly. His eyes darted back over to Ariel and then returned to Dean. Dean was staring at the kid thoughtfully, and he nodded, seemingly absorbed in his thoughts. He guzzled a few more sips of his beer.

"Alright. Thank you for your time, Jeremy," he said. "That was very helpful."

"So you're really not here because of my ferns?" Jeremy asked. Dean grinned and shook his head.

"Nah, man. Ferns…not exactly the biggest concern that we have on our hands right now." He clapped the young man on the shoulder and exchanged a glance with Ariel. She subtly placed the beer bottle on the nearby table, and Dean followed suit.

"Just keep them out of sight," she said with her cool, professional smile as she followed Dean out the door. Jeremy waved goodbye, and he shut the door behind them. Instantly, she made a face and smacked her lips. "Ugh, beer's awful."

"You don't appreciate the finer things in life," Dean said with a sigh as they walked down the hall. "At least we have some kind of idea about this sleep study. Yellow tea…"

"I guess that puts us somewhere. But there's something about Jeremy Frost that isn't giving me a good feeling. He's more involved in this than he's letting on—I know it." She ran a hand through her hair and unbuttoned one of the buttons on her blouse. She caught Dean glancing over, and she shoved him. "Creep."

"Hey, I appreciate your body. I catch you checking me out all the time," Dean defended. She smiled, but she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Come on. I'd like to see Bobby," she said.

"Of course," Dean quickly replied. He put his hand on the small of her back, wishing that he could take away the unhappiness he knew she was feeling; hell, he wished he could take away his own unhappiness.

* * *

Ariel had heard plenty of strange things in her life, and she supposed that discovering that Freddy Kreuger was a real possibility wasn't _that_ ridiculous. She followed Sam and Dean out into the hall as they talked about who the possible killer could be and why they would be targeting Bobby. And most importantly, why Bobby was still alive at this point.

"So how do we find our homicidal sandman?" Dean asked.

"Could be anyone," Sam replied with a sigh. Ariel let out a groan.

"Fucking brilliant," she muttered. Really narrows our options down."

"Anyone who knew the doctor had access to his dream shrooms," Dean pointed out.

"Maybe one of his test subjects or something?" Sam asked. Suddenly, Ariel froze, her eyes wide as she made a connection between what Sam was saying and her own intuition. The brothers stopped and looked back at her when they realized that she wasn't with him.

"Ar?" Sam asked.

"Jeremy," she said. Her eyes met Dean's, and she looked expectantly at him. "Come on, he's gotta be the one. I told you I had a feeling about him, and he'd be one of those little shits who'd have access to the drug juice."

"I don't know, Ar," Dean replied reluctantly. "The kid seemed pretty clean to me."

"Dude, I'm never wrong," she protested. "It's gotta be Jeremy. There's something _really_ off about him."

"Hon, that's called drugs," Dean explained. She gave him a bored look.

"Dean, I'm serious," she said. He sighed.

"Ok. It's possible. But Gregg's research was pretty sketchy. I mean…I don't know how many test subjects he had or who all of them were," he said. Sam scoffed loudly, drawing the couple's attention towards him.

"What?" Ariel asked.

"In any other case, we'd be calling Bobby and asking him for help right now," the floppy-haired hunter replied with a sigh. Dean snapped his fingers and then grabbed Sam's arm.

"You know what? You're right," he said quickly.

"What?" Sam asked in surprise.

"Let's go talk to him," Dean answered, as though the answer were obvious.

"Sure. I think we might find the conversation a little one-sided," Ariel replied, smirking at him.

"Not if we're tripping on some Dream Root," Dean suggested with a knowing look in his green eyes. Ariel paused, considering what he'd just said. She exchanged a look with Sam, who was looking as though he were trying to figure out if Dean were joking or not.

"What?" Sam asked disbelievingly.

"You heard me." Dean stared seriously at his younger brother. Sam looked at Ariel, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Are you in for this?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Have any better ideas?"

"You wanna go dreamwalking inside Bobby's head?" Sam asked, as if he needed clarification.

"Yeah. Why not? Maybe we could help," Dean said defensively.

"Besides, we really don't have many better options," Ariel added. Sam squinted his eyes at the two hunters beside him.

"We have no idea what's crawling around in there," he said cautiously.

"Well, how bad could it be?" Dean turned towards Ariel for the answer. She paused, thinking and genuinely assessing how bad it could be. Finally, she winced and reluctantly looked towards Sam, knowing he was right.

"Bad," she confirmed. Sam gave Dean the I-told-you-so look that always made Dean want to gag.

"There you have it. Besides, we're fresh out of African Dream Root, so unless you know someone who can score some…" Sam's voice trailed off as he saw the wheels turning in Dean's head. His brother's expression changed from looking mildly disappointed to encouraged to annoyed.

"Shit," Dean mumbled.

"What?" Sam asked—he felt like he was doing a lot of "what" asking today. He saw realization come across Ariel's face, and she looked at Dean, her eyes wide. She shook her head vehemently.

"_No_, Dean," she stressed. Sam folded his arms.

"Anyone wanna clue me in?"

"Bela," Ariel snapped.

"Bela? Shit. You're actually suggesting we ask her a favor?" Sam asked with an unpleasant grimace on his narrow face.

"I'm feeling dirty just thinking about it, but yeah," Dean reluctantly answered. Ariel continued shaking her head.

"No. No, no, no," she said. Dean grabbed her shoulder and made her look at him.

"Honey, there's no other way," he said. "Do you know anyone who has African Dream Root up their sleeve?" She didn't respond. "I didn't think so. Now I know that you and Bela hate each other, but she kind of owes us anyway. I don't think she can really fuck us over _that_ much."

"You'd be surprised," Ariel grumbled.

"Ar, it's not a bad idea," Sam slowly conceded. She shot him a glare.

"Whatever. I don't want to be a part of this." She walked off, leaving the Winchester brothers behind her. Dean openly sighed as he watched his hunter girlfriend stalk off.

"She in?" Sam asked. Dean nodded.

"Yeah, she's in."

* * *

Sometimes Ariel forgot that Sam was a regular human male with sexual needs, but she was unwillingly reminded of that as he let out little noises from the spot where he'd fallen asleep on the desk. She glanced up at him from her spot on the bed and then looked over at Dean, who was beaming like a man who'd discovered serious leverage against Sam. He looked at her and audibly snickered, pointing over at Sam.

"Ain't he cute," he said fondly. "Nothing like a young boy having his first sex dream."

"Ew, Dean, I didn't need to picture that," she groaned. She paused. "Huh, I wonder if the feeling I'm experiencing right now is what Sam experiences whenever he sees us kiss. Or if that's what he experienced when he walked in on us having sex."

"Hey." Dean lifted his pen and pointed it at her, narrowing his intense green eyes. "That was a great night, and we were engaging in natural, beautiful urges that our bodies have towards each other."

"Ah, I love it when you talk new age-y," she said with a smirk. He winked at her with a wicked grin.

"If you love it so much, you can come over here and kiss me," he challenged. Sam let out another little whimper, making Ariel wrinkle her nose as she was once again tuned into his sleepy pleasure sounds.

"I'll come over when you make him stop," she said. Dean's grin only widened, and he looked towards his brother.

"Sam! Wake up!" he called. Sam was still for a few seconds, but then he jolted awake, his body tensing and jerking into an upright position. His back stayed towards them, but Ariel could sense the embarrassment and awkwardness he was feeling as he wondered how much they'd heard.

"Dude, you were out," she said.

"And making some serious happy noises," Dean added with a chuckle. "Who were you dreaming about?"

"What? No one. Nothing," Sam quickly said. Ariel and Dean exchanged a look, clearly picking up on the fact that Sam was lying.

"C'mon, you can tell me. Angelina Jolie?" Dean pressed.

"And don't worry about me," Ariel added. "I won't judge. Your dream lady is your dream lady, and you shouldn't feel ashamed about it."

"No," Sam tersely replied, still not turning around to look at them.

"Brad Pitt?" Dean clarified.

"No. No! Dude, it doesn't matter," Sam shot Dean an agitated glance, rubbing his face with his hand.

"You owe me a kiss," Dean pointed out to Ariel. Sam turned around just in time to see her promptly walk over to Dean and kiss him gently but firmly on the mouth. She pulled back and smiled at him, her eyes tracing over him. Suddenly, she pulled her disposable camera out and snapped a picture of him. Dean jerked back in surprise, but he didn't say anything. He'd gotten her the damn camera, and he couldn't complain about her taking pictures. Her happy smile was too much for him, and he found himself smiling.

"I called Bela," Dean announced from his spot, his eyes still glued to Ariel.

"Bela? Yeah? She—what'd she—you know, say? She…gonna…help us?" Sam asked, the awkwardness carrying over into his voice. Ariel shot him a curious glance and then looked back at Dean. She settled down on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Shockingly, no," she answered Sam with a smirk, "which puts us back to square one. Dean and I have been trying to decipher the doctor's notes."

"Unfortunately, he has worse handwriting than you do," Dean muttered as an afterthought. He paused, looking at Sam. "You gonna come help us with this stuff?"

Sam looked down and shifted awkwardly, his face trying desperately to hide what his pants weren't doing a good job of hiding. "Yeah, yeah. Just give me a sec."

Dean took that as a yes, and he turned back to Ariel, looking up at her with adoration clearly in his eyes as he looked at her. He reached up and tugged on a piece of her hair.

"Your hair's growing out," he said. She winced and looked at it in his hand.

"I know. I need to get it cut," she said.

"Why not let it grow out?" he asked. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head vehemently.

"No, I don't like it long. I hate putting it in a ponytail or a braid because it looks better down, and it just gets in the way when it's long. I like it short better," she replied.

"Ok. I like it short," he said, simply accepting it. She smiled at him, her eyes taking in a new side of him appreciatively.

"Yeah? Most guys always say that long hair is better," she said. He shrugged.

"I think you're gorgeous with short hair. If you wanted to grow it out, ok, but it's not my hair. You're happy with it like this, and I think you look great." He was answered with an enthusiastic kiss, her tongue flicking into his mouth eagerly. He was getting more into it when a knock at the door interrupted them. The two of them looked over at Sam, and he uncomfortably looked back at them. Dean looked up at Ariel, and she sighed.

"Don't worry, guys, I'll get it," she grumbled, and she stood up and walked to the door. She turned the knob and opened it a few inches so that she was mainly hidden behind the door. When she saw who was there, she heaved a sigh and pulled the door open, revealing Bela in a trench coat.

"Bela. As I live and breathe," Ariel remarked in a stale tone.

"I'll be damned," Dean added with a snort. Bela ignored Ariel and looked directly at Dean.

"You called me. Remember?" she asked in that clipped tone of hers as she crossed into the room. Ariel gazed at the thief distastefully, not even bothering to hide the look on her face.

"I remember you turning me down," Dean corrected.

"Well, I'm just full of surprises," Bela chirped. "Ariel, you're looking just as lovely as ever. Your hair's growing out."

"Yeah, yeah," Ariel flippantly replied with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Hey, Bela. What's going on?" Sam awkwardly grumbled from his spot at the desk.

"I brought you your African Dream Root," the thief replied. She took a jar out and handed it to Ariel. The hunter took it in her hands and looked at the contents, squinting her eyes and rolling the jar around between her palms. "Nasty stuff and not easy to come by."

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Ariel asked, glancing up at Bela.

"What? I can't do you a little favor every now and again?" Bela asked, sounding almost surprised that Ariel didn't seem to believe that she could have any good in her. Ariel's expression remained bored and suspicious as she eyed the Englishwoman.

"No, you can't," she answered tersely.

"Come on, I wanna know what the strings are before you attach them," Dean added, taking the jar from Ariel to examine it himself, his eyes equally suspicious.

"You don't do favors for free," Ariel said and folded her arms.

"You said this was for Bobby Singer, right?" Bela asked, looking at Dean. Dean nodded. "Well, I'm doing it for him. Not you." She looked at Ariel. "And not you, even though you may be his foster child."

"Bobby? Why?" Dean asked.

"He saved my life once." She paused. "In Flagstaff." She watched Dean and Ariel exchange a look before checking in with Sam. "I screwed up, and he saved me, ok? You satisfied?"

"Maybe," Ariel mumbled.

"So when do we go on this little magical mystery tour?" Bela asked, completely changing the subject.

"Oh, you're not going anywhere. I don't trust you enough to let you in my car, much less Bobby's head. No offense," Dean said with a snort. Bela shrugged, nonplussed.

"None taken," she said. She was quiet as Dean walked over to the safe with the jar of African Dream Shit in his hands; he placed it in next to the Colt and shut the safe, locking it behind him. Her expression became a bit more annoyed now. "It's 2 A.M. Where am I supposed to go?"

"Oh, honey, you ain't staying here!" Ariel chirped. She caught Sam looking at her a little strangely—if she didn't know any better, she would've thought that he looked disappointed, but that couldn't be right—and she grinned at Bela.

"Get a room," Dean suggested. "Ah, they got the Magic Fingers, a little Casa Erotica on pay-per-view. You'll love it."

Bela's face went from looking mildly annoyed to full out pissed off. She grabbed her coat, glowering at both him and Ariel. "You…"

"Bye, darling!" Ariel said cheerfully, waving at her as she went storming out of the room.

Sam jumped up from his chair. "Nice to see—seeing you…" Bela slammed the door, "…Bela."

"The fuck, dude?" Dean asked incredulously. Sam did that awkward shifting back and forth that he'd done earlier. He tried to think of something to say, but he didn't have to because Dean lost interest as Ariel draped her arms around his waist, pulling his attention back to her.

"You see the look on her face?" she asked with a snicker. Dean grinned.

"Yeah, she's so funny when she's pissed off," he said with a sigh.

"Personally, I think that you're too hard on her," Sam said. The words were out before he could take them back, and he wished that he could the instant he saw Ariel's face. She was staring at him in disbelief; she'd moved so that one arm was still around Dean and the other hand was placed on her hip as she stared at him.

"You think I'm hard on her?" she asked incredulously. Sam shrugged and wouldn't look her in the eyes.

"She really hasn't been that bad—she could be worse," he said defensively.

"Dude, she fucking shot you," Ariel said with a sharp laugh. "Define worse."

Sam vaguely shrugged again and still wouldn't look at her. She looked up at Dean, and he gave her a confused tilt of the head that said he didn't know what was going on with his brother and didn't really care to find out. Dropping it, she grabbed Dean by the hand and dragged him over to the bed so he could join her as they formulated their plan with the dream root.

"Stranger things have happened," she said with a sigh. And she was right. Out of all the things that she'd come in contact with, Sam defending Bela after she'd shot him was a low mark on the Strange Things list. For starters, this African Dream Root was pretty strange, and Bobby's being in a coma with nothing seeming to be medically wrong was pretty strange.

If only she knew that things were about to get stranger.


	22. Admission

**Shoutouts to Deirdreadire, eiahlaie, Laura-LaLa, tigereyekum, and okgurl87 for reviewing!**

**More welcomes and thank yous to new followers and reviewers! I love seeing people hop on the Dariel train =)**

**Later in this chapter, Dean references that he and Ariel have been together about 7-8 months, and I used the Timeline for Season 3 off of . I had no idea it was that long or else I would've made it seem like it'd been 7-8 months, so hopefully the way I've written it doesn't seem like I went from writing a couple of like, two months to more serious all of a sudden. But I was planning on putting in the last thingy anyway, so yeah ;) I think we've been waiting for this a while.**

**As always, leave your thoughts and opinions!**

**Enjoy =)**

* * *

Chapter 22

"You're taking this seriously, aren't you?" Dean asked Ariel, watching her get snuggled under the blankets. She'd changed out of her sweater and jeans for her usual cotton shorts and baggy t-shirt that she wore to bed. Her hair was down, falling into her face as usual, but otherwise, she looked like she was ready to go to bed for the night. She gave him a weirded out look.

"Uh, yeah," she said. "If I'm gonna sleep, I wanna be comfortable as shit. Particularly if I'm being drugged by a fucking root."

"I guess there's method to the madness," Dean replied with a shrug. She leaned back into the pillows and closed her eyes, breathing deeply as she relaxed her body. "Babe, you don't have to try to relax—the root'll just…knock you out."

"Yeah, I'm just mentally preparing for it," she replied with her eyes still closed. Dean looked at Sam, who was entering the room with three glasses, and Sam gave a shrug as he glanced at the blonde hunter. He handed two cups to Dean and kept one for himself.

"Hey, Yogi, your poison's ready," Dean said. Ariel opened her eyes and accepted the glass of it from him. She stared dully at the liquid.

"This looks like shit," she said. "Jeremy wasn't kidding when he said it was nasty."

"You haven't even tasted it yet," Dean said. She looked up at him.

"I think that it's safe to say that judging the book by it's cover is totally ok in this scenario," she said.

"Uh, should we dim the lights and sync up _Wizard of Oz _to _Dark Side of the Moon_?" Dean asked with a grin.

"Why?" Sam asked. He was smiling, but it was obvious that he didn't know what Dean was talking about. Dean stared at him, a disappointed expression on his face.

"What did you do during college?" he asked with a sigh. Sam looked confused, but he didn't say anything. Dean went to knock the liquid back, but Ariel stopped him.

"Wait, wait, wait. Whew! Can't forget this," she chimed as she reached into the drawer by the bed and pulled out an envelope. She dug around in it and put the invisible contents of it in Sam's and Dean's outstretched hands. Dean squinted at what he was holding, realizing that what she'd placed in his hand wasn't actually invisible like he'd originally thought.

"What the hell is that?" he asked.

"Bobby's hair," Sam casually answered. Dean looked horrified.

"We have to drink Bobby's hair?"

"That's how you control whose dream you're entering. You gotta…drink some of their, uh…some of their body." Sam didn't look as though he enjoyed the thought any more than Dean did.

"Well, guess hair of the dog is better than other parts of the body," Dean relented.

"Bottoms up," Ariel said, lifting her glass. The brothers lifted theirs to join hers, and then they all knocked their drinks back. As soon as the drink hit Ariel's lips, she made a sound of protest. The taste was revolting, and for a few moments, she felt the strong urge to violently throw up all over the place. But she forced it down her throat. When she was done, she coughed and smacked her lips, trying to suck the taste out of her mouth.

"Jesus, that was fucking awful!" she exclaimed.

"Feel anything?" Dean asked.

"No. You guys feel anything?" Sam asked. Ariel and Dean both shook their heads.

"Maybe we got some bad schwag," Dean suggested as he lifted his glass to inspect it more closely.

"It'd be just like Bela to give us rotten shit," Ariel bitterly remarked.

"Hey, when did it start raining?" Sam suddenly asked, his tone confused as his ears picked up on the sounds of a thunderstorm outside their room. Ariel got up out of the bed and walked over to the window; she drew back the curtain and paused as she looked at the state of the outdoors. She blinked.

"When did it start raining upside down?" she asked. "What the fuck?" She turned around to look at the brothers, but she found that they were no longer in the motel room but in a house. She froze, her eyes the only things darting around as she took in the sight of the new walls around her.

"Ok, I don't know what's weirder—the fact that we're in Bobby's head…or that he's dreaming of _Better Homes and Gardens_," Dean said slowly, also looking alarmed at their sudden change of scenery.

"Wait!" Ariel exclaimed. "This is my house!"

"What?" Sam asked in confusion. She excitedly began to gesture around her, her hands and her mouth working faster than her brain could in order to straighten out her words.

"This is my house! Imagine this place without the paint job. More cluttered, dusty, books all over the place!" she continued.

"It's Bobby's house," Dean said as the realization dawned on him by what she meant when she said "her house." He looked around, mildly impressed by how nice the place looked when it was cleaned up; it didn't have that familiar feeling of home that he associated with it, but it sure as hell looked nice.

"Bobby?" Ariel called. "Bobby, where are you? It's Ariel!"

"Bobby!" Sam whisper-yelled. No answer. "Dean? I'm gonna go look outside."

"No, no, no. Stay close," Dean argued.

"Dude, I'll be fine. Just, look around in here. Look, we gotta find him," Sam said.

"Don't do anything stupid," Dean warned. Sam rolled his eyes, but he nodded. Ariel watched him exit the house.

"Bobby?" she called again.

"Bobby!" Dean joined in. He looked at her, and she shrugged, crossing into the kitchen. "Where the hell is he? He's gotta be here."

He followed her into the hall outside the kitchen. A sound caught both of their attentions, and they quickly turned, staring at the door on the other end. Ariel glanced at him, and he silently nodded. She drew forward slowly, quietly placing one foot in front of the other as she approached the door.

"Who's out there?" Bobby's voice came. She froze and looked back at the door she'd originally been facing. She quickly crossed to the door, noticing the long scratches on the door. She touched them and frowned as she placed her hand on the doorknob and jiggled it.

"Bobby, you in there?" she whispered loudly.

"Ariel?" Bobby asked from the other side of the door in surprise.

"Yeah!" she answered. "It's me. I've got Dean with me, too. Open up." Bobby opened the door and looked out, his eyes panicked as he took in the sight of Ariel and Dean standing in front of him. Ariel frowned even deeper as she saw the scratches on his face, watching him cross into the kitchen, frantically looking around as if he were waiting for someone to jump out and attack him.

"Hey," Dean greeted from behind her.

"How in the hell did you find me?" Bobby breathed, quickly wrapping her in a hug and clapping Dean on the shoulder.

"We got our hands on some of that Dream Root stuff," Dean replied. Bobby glanced at him, a hint of confusion across his face as he continued to search for his attacker.

"Dream Root? What?" he asked.

"Dr. Gregg, the experiments?" Ariel pressed.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bobby snapped. The lamps began to flicker, and his eyes filled with terror. "Hurry." He darted for the closet, but Ariel reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What the fuck is going on?" she asked.

"She's coming," Bobby frantically warned.

"Ok, you know this is a dream, don't you?" Dean asked, his frown deepening as he saw the paralyzing fear in Bobby's face.

"What are you, crazy?" Bobby hissed.

"It's a dream, Bobby! None of this is real!" Ariel grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him hard in the eyes; she'd never seen him this panicked and terrified before, and she hated seeing him like this. He was one of the bravest people she knew, and if he looked scared, she couldn't imagine what it was that had set him off like this.

"Does that look made up?" Bobby asked and pointed a finger to something behind her head. Ariel turned just as the closet door slammed, and she saw a woman in a white dress walking towards them.

"What the fuck?" Ariel snapped. Dean grabbed her and pushed her behind him out of instinct. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at the sexist desire for him to want to protect her, and really, she felt that she could use some protecting as she watched the angry looking woman approach them. If this was the thing that was filling Bobby with such fear, she decided that if Dean wanted to protect her, then ok.

"Bobby, who is that?" she asked. She looked at him and was surprised to see tears filling his eyes as he stared at the woman, who was still slowly but steadily approaching them.

"She's…she's my wife."

* * *

In the past five minutes, things had definitely gotten stranger. Dean was holding the doors to the kitchen shut as Karen Singer screamed and pounded on the other side to get at Bobby. Ariel was handling Bobby himself, grabbing his shoulders and shouting at him to get him to listen to her.

"I killed her," Bobby was saying, tears running down his face as she shook him.

"Bobby! This is your dream. And you can wake up. I mean, hell, you can do anything. You taught me everything I know about hunting—you're fearless!" she cried.

"Just leave me alone. Let her kill me already," Bobby moaned in despair. Ariel's navy blue eyes hardened, and her lips set into a hard, thin line at the sound of his voice.

"Look at me. _Look at me_. You gotta snap out of this now. _You gotta snap out of this now!_ You're not gonna die—I'm not gonna let you die. Bobby, you're my dad. You gotta believe me, please!" she cried desperately and fiercely, staring into his eyes. Bobby's eyes darted away from hers and over to the doors where Karen was still screaming and banging on the other side.

"I'm dreaming?" he asked.

"Yes! Now take control of it," Ariel ordered. At Ariel's words, he closed his eyes, and within seconds, Karen Singer's cries and pounds were gone. Ariel released his shoulders, watching him as he walked over to the kitchen door. Dean opened it for him, and they all saw that there was no Karen waiting to kill them.

"I don't believe it," Bobby breathed.

"Believe it," Dean said, breathing heavily from his effort to keep the doors closed. "Now would you please wake up?"

Ariel jerked awake, her eyes snapping open, and she sat up in the bed. She blinked her eyes as she looked around her. Jesus, she hadn't even remembered falling asleep. She saw Dean sitting up, rubbing the back of his eyes while Sam looked confused and somewhat wired.

"It's Jeremy," he said out loud. "Jeremy's the one behind this."

"Knew it!" Ariel loudly exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Dean. "My intuition is _never_ wrong! I told you that there was something funny about him, but did you listen? No. You didn't because you're Dean Winchester and always right."

"Huh, you never let anything go, do you?" Dean remarked. She didn't say anything back to him, instead turning to face Sam.

"So now we've gotta go take care of Jeremy," she said definitively. Sam gave her a quizzical look.

"Take care of him? What do you mean…kill him?" he asked. She offered up an honest shrug, her eyebrows lifted.

"I mean, I'm willing to do whatever to ensure that more people don't die," she said. "But first, we go see Bobby. We need to get him the hell out of that hospital, and then we can figure out our next plan of action."

"Hey, Ar, was all that true about Bobby's wife?" Dean asked. Her expression turned grim, and she slowly nodded, looking almost reluctant to answer his question. She ran a hand through her blonde hair and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she wondered the easiest way to respond.

"Yeah. It's true. It's…it's complicated. He doesn't talk about it much. Honestly, I don't think I'd know about it if I hadn't come across her old things," she responded.

"Her things?" Sam repeated.

"Yeah, he's got a few of her things in a box in the back of his closet. Shortly after I'd moved in with him, I was looking around for something, and I came across it, and he told me about it. It's a hard thing for him to talk about, you know? Karen's his Elliot." She forced a small smile on her face. The brothers were quiet as they took in what she'd told them; all this time they thought they'd known Bobby when really, they hadn't known anything about him at all. He'd had a wife that he'd killed when she'd been possessed by a demon, and he'd raised Ariel for years without anyone knowing about it. Bobby Singer was full of mysteries, it was beginning to seem.

* * *

"'Fore I knew it was him, he offered me a beer. I drank it. Dumbest fucking thing," Bobby grumbled as he finished retelling how he'd gotten caught up with Jeremy Frost and the whole supernatural coma problem. At Bobby's words, Ariel felt her eyes go wide. Jeremy had offered Bobby a beer, but he'd also offered her and Dean beers. She turned and looked nervously at Dean and found that he was staring nervously back at her.

"Oh, I don't know. It wasn't that dumb," he tried to laugh off, even though his tone made it obvious about what he'd done. He avoided looking at either Bobby or Sam, choosing to grin at Ariel, who was trying to keep her composure.

"Dean, you didn't," Sam said, his hands on his hips. Dean was quiet, and he stared expectantly at Ariel. She didn't say anything as she continued trying to look innocent. Finally, she noticed Sam and Bobby staring at her with disbelieving looks.

"Not you, too!" Bobby groaned.

"What?" she asked defensively. "I didn't want to, but Dean took the beer, and I thought that I'd look like an asshole if I didn't take it, too!"

Bobby and Sam turned back to glare at Dean.

"I was thirsty," he answered with no shame.

"That's great!" Sam snapped. "Now he can come after any of you three!"

"Ariel, how many times have I told you—"

"Bobby, I know," Ariel interrupted, her blue eyes flashing. "It was a stupid mistake, ok?"

"Don't get testy with me, girl. Where the hell's your common sense these days? You never used to make these slip ups before," the older hunter retorted. Anger came over Ariel's face, and she struggled to keep her voice low and calm as she replied.

"We'll find him fast. All we have to do is just not fall asleep, right?" she asked in a low voice. "How hard can that be?"

* * *

Two days later, Ariel would come to regret her snarky question. She was sitting in the backseat of the Impala, fighting a losing battle against the heavy weight of her eyelids. Every now and then, Sam would turn around and shake her back to her senses. She wasn't sure if it were her imagination or not, but she could swear that the Impala was surrounded by blue rabbits.

To say that the past two days had been rough was an understatement. She'd gotten increasingly cantankerous as her sleep deprivation worsened. In fact, earlier that day, she'd gotten in a pretty bad fight with Dean, something that she wasn't exactly proud of, but she wasn't about to back down from her stance and apologize for it.

She'd been standing out by the Impala when he'd come back from the gas station shop with a handful of candy bars. He tossed one to her.

"This is pretty shitty," he said as he ripped the wrapper off of his and bit into it. She wearily nodded in agreement.

"Tell me about it."

"Makes me just wanna go to sleep now and deal with it," Dean said in a blasé manner. She glanced sharply at him.

"He could kill you, Dean," she said.

"Yeah, I know," he responded with an offhand tone. She knew it'd be better if she just let his comment go and avoid a fight, but she couldn't keep quiet. She turned so that she was facing him head on, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"When are you ever gonna stop with that shit?" she snapped. He jerked his head back in surprise, his eyebrows drawing closer together as he understood her question.

"Stop what?" he asked innocently.

"Oh, fuck that! Enough with it already." Ariel gazed intensely at him, her blue eyes blazing. "You keep putting on this show to Sam and Bobby and me like you don't care that you're gonna die soon. Dean, you're going to Hell. _You're going to Hell_. Does that not scare you at all in the slightest? Ruby doesn't even like Hell, and she's a fucking demon. Why don't you give a shit about yourself?"

"Oh, I care about myself a lot. Why do you think I take so long to look pretty in the morning?" he asked with a smirk. Suddenly, Ariel reached out and pushed his shoulder; she didn't push him hard, but it was enough to really grasp his attention. "What the fuck?"

"Stop it," she hissed in a low voice. "Stop this whole shit show of you being this cocky son of a bitch who doesn't care that he's going to Hell. You don't give a shit about yourself, but you know what? _I _do. I give a shit about you—hell, I give 20 shits about you! So why in the world can't you care about what's going to happen to you? And if you make another smartass comment, I swear to God—"

"What are you gonna do?" Dean challenged, an angry tone creeping into his voice as he turned to face her. "What are you gonna do to me that those demons won't do to me in Hell?"

"I just want you to care!" she exclaimed. The pain and the emotion were thick in her voice, and Dean saw her eyes get wet, but she didn't cry. She just stood in front of him, her arms at her sides as she stared up at him. "I don't understand how you can't care about yourself."

"Ariel…I can't…" His voice trailed off, and he found that he couldn't look at her anymore. He turned his head and pressed his lips tightly together; Dean wasn't good with emotions. He wasn't good at talking about them, and he wasn't good at admitting that he had them, so being forced to explain them to someone who meant so much to him the way Ariel did was almost impossible. He didn't know where to start. How could he? How could he explain to her how useless he was in every regard other than looking out for Sam? That was all Dad had ever told him to do—Dad had never cared about him as a person independent of his responsibilities to protect Sam. If his own father couldn't view him as a person that mattered, why should he? But he couldn't find the words to express himself, so he just looked away.

Ariel took his face in her hands and forced him to look back at her. "You are so important." Her voice was a whisper. "You are so important, and I wish you would understand and accept that. You can act all you want like you're this gruff, unfeeling person, but I know differently—I know that you have the biggest, most beautiful heart out of anyone I've ever met. I know that you're fiercely loyal and will protect the ones you love without a fraction of a doubt crossing your mind. You're so incredibly you that it's impossible for you to be anything but special, and valuable, and important, Dean."

He closed his eyes but didn't turn his head from her. His eyebrows drew together in pain, and he swallowed hard to keep himself calm. His chest felt as though it were splitting in two, and it was hard for him to breathe, but he forced himself to inhale and exhale beneath her touch that he craved with an endless hunger.

"Don't," he said quietly. He opened his eyes to look at her when she took her hands away from him, a hurt look spilling into her navy blue eyes as he gave her an answer she hadn't expected from him. Her lips parted as if she were about to say something, but then she turned and got into the backseat of the Impala, refusing to look at him.

That had been the last time that day they'd spoken. So their added tension in the car was too much for Ariel as she struggled to see past the blue rabbits running rampant out the windows.

"Alright, that's it. I'm done," Dean suddenly announced, pulling her attention back towards her physical surroundings and not just her exhausted hallucinations. She couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken was, and when she thought about it, she couldn't remember the last time she herself had said something out loud.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Taking myself a long overdue nap," Dean replied as he nestled down into the seat and put the back of his head against the front seat. She wanted to argue with him, but she was still licking her wounds from his verbal rejection earlier that day. Before she got angry all over again, she pushed the thought out of her mind. More important issues at hand, she reminded herself.

"What?! Dean, Jeremy can come after you," Sam protested.

"That's the idea," Dean answered without missing a beat. Sam looked back at Ariel, and she just gave him a blank stare; to her knowledge, Sam had no idea about what had happened between her and Dean earlier, and she had no intention of talking about it just then.

"Excuse me?" Sam asked, the pitch of his voice rising at the end.

"Come on, man, we can't find him, so let him come to me," Dean said.

"He's got a point," Ariel admitted reluctantly. Sam turned and glowered at her, half-looking surprised that she was supporting Dean on this one. "What? He does. We've been searching for Jeremy for the past two days to no avail. Might as well take the initiative."

"On his own turf? Where he's basically a god?" Sam snapped. "Ar, come on."

"I can handle it!" she exclaimed.

"You're gonna need all the back up you can get," Sam muttered, and he leaned over and plucked a hair out of Dean's head, much to Dean's painful dismay.

"Ow! What the fuck!" the older Winchester exclaimed with a jump and a glare towards his brother. Sam ignored the look. "What are you doing?"

"Coming in with you guys," Sam replied easily.

"No, you're not," Dean protested.

"Why not? At least then it'll be three against one," Sam argued.

"'Cause I don't want you digging around in my head!" Dean fought back. Ariel let out an annoyed sigh.

"Let's just fucking go already," she irritably snapped. Sam glanced back at her.

"Sheesh, touchy," he mumbled. "Hey, give me two of your hairs. That way we'll all be in the same dream. Toss me the goods, Ariel."

She did and waited for him to mix up the nasty yellow tea for all three of them. As Sam made the concoction, she could feel Dean's eyes on her, but she refused to look at him. She wasn't sure what exactly he wanted from her, and she wasn't about to give in to anything, but she couldn't deny the pang that hit her straight on in her chest. She almost missed Sam handing a cup back to her with a bit of Dean's hair in it, but she took it and reluctantly downed it.

Suddenly, without any warning, she woke up and saw that she was still in the Impala. Confused, she looked around her. The last thing she remembered, she'd been awake in the backseat, forcing the liquid down her throat. And then she was somehow asleep and awake again? Her memories weren't making sense. As she checked the front seat, Sam and Dean were both awake and looking around outside the windows, too.

"I thought we were supposed to be asleep," she said out loud. "What are we still doing here?"

"I have no idea," Sam said. A sound caught his ear, and he frowned. "There's someone out there."

"Having a hard time telling if this a dream or not," Ariel said. Dean looked back at her, but she avoided his gaze again. For a moment, it sounded like he sighed in frustration, but she still wouldn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging her. She opened the car door and eased out fluidly. Her muscles ached, and she was struggling to keep her eyes open. If this were a dream, wouldn't she be more alert and less tired? It sure as hell felt like real life to her.

Cautiously, she walked towards the front of the car, meeting up with Sam and Dean, as her eyes scanned over the dark wooded area that they were parked in. She couldn't see anyone out there, but she'd heard the same noise that Sam had, so she knew better than to just trust her eyes—hell, even as a hunter she knew better than to trust her eyes and eyes alone.

Out of nowhere, music began to play. She froze in her spot, frowning hard as she listened to the song. She recognized it: "Dream a Little Dream of Me." She couldn't remember when the last time she'd heard the song was, but she remembered that she'd always loved it. She would've smiled had she not been in the middle of realizing that she was in a dream. Turning over her shoulder, she froze as she saw Dean staring at an illuminated spot on the ground. When she looked at the center of the spot, she gasped when she saw herself sitting on the ground smiling up at him.

"Hey," Other Ariel said warmly. "You gonna sit down, or am I gonna have to get you myself?"

Dean looked at Ariel, and for the first time since their fight earlier that day, she looked back at him with a confused look on her face. She shrugged and crossed her arms across her chest.

"Well, fuck me," she muttered, more to herself out of wonderment than anything.

"Come on!" Other Ariel encouraged, and she reached towards a picnic basket. Ariel wrinkled her nose—there was no way she'd have a picnic basket in real life, but she stayed quiet and watched. "We only have an hour before we have to go to dinner at Bobby's tonight." Other Ariel held out a glass of wine towards him.

Dean looked back at Ariel and Sam, his eyes nervously flicking from Sam to Ariel. "I've never had this dream before."

It was obvious from his tone that he was lying.

"Stop looking at me like that," he ordered Sam. Ariel looked back at the long-haired brother and found him wearing a big, goofy smile on his face. Sam looked at her and then gestured to Other Ariel.

"That's you," he said, as if she hadn't known. "He dreams about you."

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean snapped, turning over his shoulder to send a furious but embarrassed look towards his brother. He avoided Ariel's eyes, and she didn't blame him, though really, this didn't match up with how he'd reacted to her words earlier. Inwardly, she frowned as she tried to figure out what exactly was going on with Dean. His dreams were clearly very different from the reality that he'd given to her.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled, looking slightly guilty.

"Dean," Other Ariel said softly, "I love you."

Ariel froze, her eyes wide as she watched a version of herself say the words that'd been dancing around in the back of her brain. Embarrassed, she quickly ran a hand through her hair; at this point, she wasn't sure if this dream were Dean's or hers. Technically, she was in Dean's dream, and he was in hers, and Sam was in both of theirs.

As she tried to hide her burning face, Other Ariel flickered away, and then she was gone. Dean turned and frowned, looking at Ariel and then back at Sam as he tried to think of something to say. He could tell by Ariel's face that she was feeling just as awkward and strange as he was.

"Well," he said and awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Hey, guys," Sam said, his attention on something, and then he took off. Dean caught a glimpse of Jeremy running through the woods, and he followed after his brother. Ariel followed the both of them, thankful that she'd worn her faithful Timberlands instead of any of her other shoes that would've made it difficult to run in.

She made it into the woods, but suddenly, she wasn't in the woods anymore. She was in a dark warehouse, and she knew immediately where she was—it was a dream she'd had too many times before. Instantly, she froze, her senses on high alert, and she pulled her knife out of the back of her waistband to prepare herself. If this was a dream, and if it was a dream that was supposed to kill her, she knew that she wouldn't be seeing Elliot.

"Oh, Ariel, always with the violence," a familiar voice said off to her left. She looked and found Deianira standing there, looking as she always did: professional, clean, and poised.

"Don't you ever get tired of always killing?" Sandrine asked, showing up seemingly out of nowhere.

"Or do you enjoy it because that's who you are?" Astra added, completing the trio of sisters. Ariel held her ground and stood still, glaring defiantly at the Furies. This was a dream. They couldn't exactly hurt her—sure, she could be killed, but these weren't the _real_ Furies. So maybe that meant she couldn't be killed. Either way, she didn't want to take her chances.

"Fuck you," she spat.

"So vulgar, too," Astra said. "You _and_ your little boyfriend Dean Winchester."

"The things we're gonna do to him," Deianira said with a pleasant sigh. "We've been waiting for you, but we can take him instead. The hellhounds will devour him, but we'll show you every night in your dreams what we do to punish him."

"And it'll be all your fault," Sandrine said darkly. Ariel swallowed hard and took a step back as she stepped towards her. "Don't look so scared. We're not gonna hurt you. We'll only hurt Dean."

"Don't you _dare_ touch him," Ariel threatened, her voice low and dangerous. Normally, that tone would've made a demon nervous, but neither of the Furies flinched. Instead, the looked amused.

"You're powerless, Ariel. Absolutely 100% powerless. Just like you were when we took your father and your brother and basically your mother, and just like you were when we took Elliot," Astra said with a laugh.

"Oo, _especially_ Elliot," Sandrine cooed, circling around Ariel. "You couldn't do a single thing while we tied him to that wheel and broke each and every one of his limbs. You couldn't stop it when we splintered his femurs. You couldn't stop it when we snapped his tibia. You couldn't stop his screams as slivers of bone pierced through his skin like needles."

"And you can't stop what we'll do to Dean," Deianira interjected as she joined Sandrine's circling. "You realize that you're powerless, right? Running around saving people doesn't give you power; it just makes you pathetic. You're powerless to save all those people and everyone you love."

"Bullshit," Ariel snapped. A tight pain was in her chest as she wondered if they were right. Were they? They were right that she'd been powerless as they'd slaughtered her family and then Elliot right in front of her. But she saved people every day, and she would save Dean if it were the last thing she ever did.

"You're not a hero," Deianira snapped. "You're nothing but a worm."

"A weak, useless, little worm," Astra sighed, almost sounding regretful. "Dean doesn't love you, you know. If he did, he would've tried to get out of his deal. But he didn't try, and he's still leaving you and going to Hell."

"You don't know anything!" Ariel shouted furiously.

"We know _everything_!" Sandrine shouted. "We know that you'll fail to save him, the way you always fail to save everything dear to you. We know so much more than you think we do. Don't test us. We're older than time, and we have seen way more than you would ever see in a thousand lifetimes."

"You may think you know everything, but you don't," Ariel said through her teeth, fighting her tears of anger back.

"We do! You think you know better than us, but you are an insignificant little human on an insignificant little planet, leading an insignificant little life with an insignificant little purpose. What you fail to do is so much greater than what you succeed at doing," Sandrine said, and she crossed towards Ariel so that she was nose to nose with the blonde hunter. "But your greatest failure will always be letting Dean die. Letting him fall into our hands where we will rip him apart with our bare hands, carve pieces of his flesh from his bone, and twist his bones until they splinter. All that happening to a man who doesn't love you."

Ariel was choking on the pain that was creeping up through her chest and into her throat, and she couldn't hold it back any longer. With one quick, swift motion, she drove the knife into Sandrine's middle. The look on the Fury's face was horrified and disbelieving as she fell to the ground, blood streaming from her center. Ariel heard Astra screamed and looked up. Both Astra and Deianira had blood covering them, and they were falling to the ground with their sister.

"He loves me," Ariel said quietly to them. She knelt down so that she was staring Sandrine in the eye. "I will save him but not before I kill you three bitches and damn you all to Hell."

Sandrine was looking at her with wide eyes, and she seemed to be dying, along with Astra and Deianira. Ariel stood, and she blinked, but when she opened her eyes, she was back in the Impala. She jerked upright and found Dean and Sam looking around in a shocked panic.

"Ariel?" Dean asked as he turned around to look at her. He found her looking up at him with adrenaline-filled eyes and shallow breaths as she fought to reorient herself with being awake.

"I'm good, I'm good," she said quickly. Her eyes darted between the two brothers, noticing how freaked out they looked. "What happened to you two?"

"I think we don't have to worry about Jeremy anymore," Sam said slowly, and Dean and Ariel both knew what he meant. Ariel let out a loud sigh.

"Thank God," she said. "Ok, let's make a pact to never, ever, ever do African Dream Root again because that sucked ass."

"Understatement," Dean stiffly replied. "Well, uh, I don't know about you guys, but I'm ready to go back to the motel and sleep for nine years."

"I don't think I ever want to dream again," Sam said with a short laugh. "But I could always use sleep."

Ariel didn't say anything. She just looked down at her hands and tried to forget the words that the Furies had played through her head.

* * *

When they got back to the motel, Dean went straight to the front desk, surprising Ariel and Sam. She exchanged a look with Sam, both of them looking perplexed by what the older Winchester was doing.

"Excuse me, sir, but I'd look to book a room," Dean said easily with a tired smile on his face to the woman behind the counter. "I know I've been staying with my brother in our dad's room while he was out, but, uh, me and the missus would like our own room tonight." He winked wickedly at the blushing older woman.

Within seconds, he had a separate key, and he walked towards Ariel and Sam. Sam frowned at him.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Nothing," Dean responded breezily.

"What, you and Ariel staying in a different room? That's the first time it's happened is all," Sam answered with a smirk. "I mean, if you want alone time, I'm sure Bobby and I can go grab a burger or something."

Dean glared at Sam. "I can't get a night without your gassiness and Bobby's snoring? Please, I'd like to get a good night's sleep tonight, and maybe I'm being too forward by assuming Ariel wants the same thing, but I think it's safe to say she wants a night free from you guys."

Sam glanced at Ariel, and she just blinked at him in return. Heaving a sigh, he finally shrugged and walked off towards the room. "I'll see you guys in the morning."

Ariel gazed after Sam as he walked down the hall before turning to look at Dean. He wasn't looking at her, and she could tell that he was purposely avoiding her gaze. Quietly, she followed him to their original room, watching him as he got both his bag and her bag without waiting for her to help him. She watched him easily grab both bags as if they weighed nothing. If things hadn't been weird between them, she would've made some flirty remark to him, but things were weird, so she kept quiet.

He led the way to their new room, just as silent as she was. She could hear the sounds of him steadily breathing, and she wished that he would just say something. She waited for him to put her bags down, and she took what she needed to wipe her make up off and wash her face, disappearing into the bathroom for a good 10 minutes. While she was in there, she took the time to calm her nerves and to let go of the aching pain that lingered in her chest after facing the Furies. Nothing calmed her down more than washing her face, and she was more than happy to wash away her anxieties and her worries and her fears down the drain.

When she came out, Dean was sitting on the bed still in his jeans and shirt. He was looking down at his hands, but when he heard her exit the bathroom, he looked up. She'd changed into a t-shirt and shorts in the bathroom, and she looked more relaxed than she had all night.

"Hey," he said lamely.

"Hey," she cautiously replied, slowing down as she wondered what she was missing.

"You saw my dream, huh?" he asked. Carefully, she nodded, unsure of how to respond.

"Yeah, I did. Before we got separated," she said.

"I—I didn't mean for you to, uh, to see that," Dean replied, nodding his head thoughtfully as he spoke. He gave a small laugh. "I can't exactly control my dreams."

"Yeah, yeah, I understand," she said diplomatically. "Dreams are weird."

There was silence between the two of them, and Ariel awkwardly crossed her arms and ran a hand through her hair as Dean blinked at her.

"You know earlier today when we got in that kinda fight?" Dean asked suddenly. She frowned.

"I don't think it was a 'kinda' fight. I'm pretty sure it was a fight," she said. The tone of her voice was instantly hard, and Dean visibly winced at the sound of it.

"Yeah, uh, I guess it was," he said. "But, um, anyway. You said all that stuff to me, and I kind of shut you down, but…the truth is…I don't wanna die. I don't wanna go to Hell. And when you said those things to me—whenever you talk about me making that trip downstairs, it just reminds me that I'll be leaving you, and that's—that's not something I like thinking about."

"Dean—"

"Ariel, this—this is new for me, this whole you and me thing, and I guess I'm not that good at it. I'm not good at talking about how I feel and—and—and you make me—I don't know. I just don't wanna die, and I don't wanna leave you." He watched her sit in the chair across from the bed, quietly gazing at him. He could see she was feeling a thousand emotions from the way they mixed and swirled in her deep, dark blue eyes.

"I don't…Dean…earlier today you shut me down, and then in your dream, you saw me telling you I love you." She paused, wondering how in the world she was going to get her words out. She bit the inside of her lower lip, and she slowly exhaled. "When we got separated, I wound up in the warehouse that I was in when I saw the Furies kill Elliot. The Furies were there, and—and they told me how they were…gonna do things to you after you died, and I'd see it in my dreams. I—I—I can't—"

"What are you saying, Ariel?" Dean asked, his throat tightening up as he watched her body language retreat from him. "Don't you tell me that you're saying what I think you are."

"Dean, I can't!" she suddenly exclaimed, something seeming to snap within her. "The Furies will torture you for eternity because of me, and there's nothing I can do—"

"Ariel, listen to me." Dean was on his knees in front of her in a flash. She gaped at him, unused to seeing him in such a position. He was still so much taller than her that when he was kneeling before her, his head was almost at the same height as hers. "It's Hell. No matter what they do to me down there, it'll be torture, but it will _not_ be because of you."

"Dean—"

"Don't. Don't you do this," he said tightly. "Everything that happens to me is on _me_. Do you hear me? Listen. That dream that you saw? It's real. When I fall asleep, I see you and me having a normal life where we go on picnics and do stupid shit like that together. Don't give up on me right after I stopped giving up on myself."

That last sentence brought tears to Ariel's eyes, and she couldn't fight the urge to take his face between her hands. He closed his eyes the way he always did at her touch, and she could see the muscles of his face visibly relax. He sighed softly, and at the sound of his exhale, she brought herself to the edge of her seat and drew him into her arms, cradling his head against her chest. He tucked his cheek against her, giving her enough space to rest her head on top of his.

"I don't wanna go to Hell," he said gruffly, his voice slightly muffled from her arm. She held him tighter and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Baby, I meant it when I said I'm getting you out, and that's what I'm gonna do," she said. He pulled away from her and sat back on his heels.

"We've been together eight months. Well, I mean, technically we've been working together for about eight months, but we've been like, _together_ together for maybe seven," he said. "I only have four months left. You and Sam have been working and—"

"I'll find a way," she interrupted. "I'll find a way to keep you alive."

His face changed from apprehensive to something she couldn't quite identify. His lips pressed tightly together, and he looked at her quizzically, as if he were studying a new specimen that puzzled him beyond anything he'd ever seen before. He took a breath and then paused, looking at her strangely.

"Ariel—I—I…you know…feelings aren't really my…I—"

"Use your words, Dean. Your words," Ariel said in that calm voice of hers. He drew his eyebrows together and breathed sharply through his nose as determination set in over his defined, angular features.

"I love you," he said simply. A silence hung in the air as she gazed with huge eyes at him. His frown deepened, and he looked a mix of surprised by himself and worried that he'd said the wrong thing. Before he knew it, she'd pulled him into her arms again, and she kissed him on the smooth patch of skin right in front of his ear.

"I love you," she whispered back in surprise. He answered her by wrapping his arms around her and holding her warmly and safely. In his dreams, he and Ariel had a life that was safe from monsters, demons, and ghosts; they had a life where the threat of Hell didn't linger over them. But he knew that reality was always going to exist, and the fact of the matter was that Dean and Ariel were never going to have a normal life. They were never going to be anything but hunters, and in four months, Dean was going to be dead.

But he loved her. He'd loved her for the past few months, but he hadn't realized it until several weeks ago at Christmas when Sam had said that Ariel loved him. And he hadn't come to terms with it until he'd dreamed about her saying those words to him in front of her. He loved her, and he would cling to that love as a beacon of hope to keep him from drowning.

He loved her.


	23. Ghostfacers

**Shoutouts to Deirdreadire, SilverShadowWolf46, eiahlaie, and tigereyekum for reviewing!**

**So I know that this chapter doesn't tie into the plot line of the season, but I just had to include this because I loved this episode. Let me know what you guys think! We have some fluff, some surprises, and some amateur ghost hunters.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 23

Sam had fucked up. He hadn't meant to, but he had, and he was dealing with the consequences of it. After having kept the knowledge of Lilith to himself, he'd faced a verbal lashing from Dean after the incident at the police station. Sam knew that Dean was right; he should've told him about Lilith, and maybe then Agent Victor Henriksen, Nancy the secretary, and the other agents and officers would still be alive. He could take Dean being mad at him, but he felt even shittier over Ariel's anger.

Sam liked Ariel—hell, she was like family. She was the older/younger sister he'd never had, and he trusted her. She was also the only one who would stand up for him whenever Dean would start getting pissy because, well, she was more logical, and she usually tended to agree with Sam's ideas. For whatever reason, Dean was better about listening to her than he was about listening to Sam, so if she agreed with Sam's plans, he'd usually give in.

So as Sam stood in front of Ariel, he couldn't meet her eyes.

"You didn't think it was important to tell me?" she hissed furiously at him.

"You've had a lot on your plate with Dean. I didn't want to add anything else on top of it," Sam lamely defended. She ran a hand through her hair and forced herself to stay calm. She gazed fiercely up at him.

"I think we're all used to having shit on our plates, Sam," she wearily replied. "When don't we? When isn't something after one of us? When aren't we fighting for our lives?"

"I know, but Ariel, we're running out of time. Dean doesn't have much time left, and before you know it, he's gonna be gone," Sam said.

"Sam, I know. What are you getting at?" she asked impatiently. Sam paused, and he sighed.

"You should be with him," he said simply. She was quiet, clearly taken back by his words, and she stared at him. "In a few months, he'll be dead, and you won't be able to be with him. I kept Lilith to myself because adding that on would've made things harder, and we would've started working twice as much than we already are. Be with him. God knows he needs you."

"Oh, Sam," Ariel said tearfully. "How is it that I get mad at you only to find out I shouldn't really be mad at you?" She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a small self-conscious laugh.

"I know I should've told you," Sam said. "Things are just…they're hard, you know? We're getting fucked over big time."

"Yeah, we are," she softly agreed. "I keep thinking that maybe it won't happen. Maybe I'll wake up, and his deal will be gone, and we'll just hunt ghosts and shapeshifters like we always have. But every day I wake up, and it's just one more day closer until his year's up."

Sam didn't say anything. He just reached out and clapped her gently on the shoulder in a gesture of comfort. She smiled but didn't look at him. Truth was, Ariel had a secret of her own. She'd come to terms that Dean couldn't be saved, as painful as that realization was. There was nothing that neither she nor Sam could do to save Dean. But she had a plan. She had a plan, and she hadn't breathed a word about it to anyone, not even Dean. Her plan was absolutely crazy, and if Dean, Sam, or Bobby knew about it, they'd try to talk her out of it, and there was no way she was going to let anyone change her mind. She had a plan, and she was certain it would work.

"What's this?" Dean asked as he came out from around some trees. "I went to go find a nice pee tree, and you guys looked ready to kill each other, I come back, and you're looking all friendly again."

"We set aside our differences," Ariel said. "You ready?"

"God, I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Dean said with a sigh. Sam laughed.

"Dude, I can't believe she did it, either," he said. "I've been trying to get you to do it with me for years."

"All I'm saying is that I'm gonna hate it," Dean said. He looked down at the giant blanket spread out on the ground and then back up at Ariel. His eyes were questioning, as if he weren't sure what to do next. She happily grabbed his hand and dragged him over towards it.

"Sam gets his own blanket. I don't think he wants to cuddle with us," she said teasingly.

"Yeah. No cuddling," Sam said with a grimace as he walked towards his own blanket. With a sigh, he tumbled down on top of it and stretched out all 6'4" of himself. He turned over and looked up at the night sky. "This is what it's all about."

"Since when are you a spirit junkie?" Dean asked. Ariel eagerly sat down on their blanket and patted the ground next to her. He looked cautiously at her before lowering himself down to the ground as well. "What do we do now?"

"We look at the stars," Ariel replied. "We relax and look at the stars and just enjoy being here until we fall asleep."

"That's supposed to be fun?" Dean grumbled. She grabbed his shoulders, careful of the gunshot wound he'd received from the battle at the police station, and pulled him down backwards. The top half of his body was spread against the lower half of hers, and he couldn't help chuckling at the awkward position he was in as he tried to readjust himself so that both he and Ariel were more comfortable. He wound up resting the back of his head against her stomach as they both lay back and looked up at the stars and the moon.

He smiled as he felt her hand begin to run through his hair repeatedly. He'd never admit it, but he loved when she did that. It reminded him of when he was a little kid, and his mom had done the same thing to him when he was drifting off to sleep. He felt loved, and he knew that he was. Even though he was grumbling and whining about sleeping out under the open sky, this was his Valentine's Day gift to her. They hadn't had a chance to celebrate Valentine's properly two days before, but this was what he'd told her he was giving her.

Of course, she'd insisted that Sam come along, too. She wouldn't say it, but Dean knew that the reason she let Sam come was the fact that he needed as much time with his brother as he could get, and she didn't want to let Dean die without also having had that time with Sam. But he'd agreed.

And her gift to him? That'd been far better than he'd ever thought it'd be. She'd made him a homemade apple pie from scratch. One of the only things she knew how to bake, she'd said. And he was disappointed because it was the best damn apple pie he'd ever had in his entire life. If he hadn't been in love with her before, he sure as hell was afterwards.

"When I was in high school, Bobby and I used to go camping," Ariel said thoughtfully, her voice quietly floating in the nighttime air around them.

"I still find it incredible that all these years Bobby was raising you, and we had absolutely no clue," Sam said, the smile obvious in his voice. Ariel grinned.

"Yeah, it was super top secret. For two or three years right after my family was killed, the Furies were hardcore on my ass trying to find me, so Bobby made sure it was hush hush and had me rotate amongst several other hunters' houses. Isn't it weird to think that I knew about you guys, but you had no idea who I was?" She laughed.

"Dude, that _is_ weird," Dean said. "You probably know far more about us than we know about you."

"I know that when Sam was 13, he was really into the magician and magic kit thing, and I know that you dropped out of high school right before you graduated," she replied.

"Huh. I'm impressed," Dean replied. He paused, and he frowned as a thought came over him. "Wait, when I was 18, you would've been 15, right?"

"Yeah, why?" she asked. Dean sat up, his green eyes wide, and he looked at Sam.

"Sammy, remember that one time when we went to stay at Bobby's for a day or two, and you found that picture of a blonde chick, and you asked Bobby who it was, and he got all huffy?" he asked. Sam sat up also and frowned.

"What? No," he said.

"Come on, yes, you do. It was in the living room where Bobby keeps all his shit, and it was in a book or something, and you found the picture and asked Bobby about it. He got pissy and wouldn't answer the question, so we just kind of that it was someone he failed to save," Dean pressed. Realization came into Sam's eyes, and he slowly nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, I do remember," he said. Dean turned to Ariel.

"When you were 15, did you have long hair and a light blue crop top?" he asked. Her eyes widened, and she nodded, staring at him curiously.

"Yeah, I did," she said. "How did you know?"

"That was you!" Dean exclaimed. "I knew that there was something weird. That picture was you, and we found it."

"Wait, I remember the picture you're talking about!" Ariel said as she sat up quickly. "Oh my God, I totally forgot about that. How'd you remember all of that?"

"Dude, I thought you were hot," Dean replied. "I thought you were some hot chick Bobby hadn't been able to save."

"Holy shit, that's incredible," Sam said with a laugh. "Fate works in funny ways, huh?"

"Yeah," Ariel replied, her eyes on Dean as she spoke. "It does."

* * *

"Hey, Dean."

"Yeah?"

"Take a picture with me." Ariel leaned up from the backseat and handed her camera to Dean. Sam was in the driver's seat for once, and Dean didn't take to being in the backseat of his own car very well, so she'd agreed to take the back. He took the camera from her and held it out at a distance that would capture the both of them. The camera flashed, and he gave it back to her.

"Isn't that like, your third roll of film?" he asked.

"Uh, my seventh," she casually replied. Sam snorted.

"I think that was your worst idea ever," he said, turning to grin at his brother. Dean smiled back, but he didn't say anything. Ariel was thrilled with taking all these pictures, and he had fun taking pictures with her, even though he'd never admit that one either. The hunters had had a pretty easy two weeks since their campout under the stars. Dean had actually enjoyed that relaxing evening with his brother and his girlfriend, talking until the sky was so black, they lost sight of the stars if they unfocused their eyes enough.

"So fill me in on the case before we get there," Ariel said, leaning forward so that her head was in between Dean's and Sam's.

"Morton House. Ghost," Sam summed up. She waited for more information, but he didn't add anything. Accepting it, she shrugged and squinted through the darkness onto the road in front of her.

"How long until we're there?" she asked.

"Just a few more minutes, I think. Should be a pretty easy job, but this is our only shot. Comes out on Leap Year. Of all the fucking days of the year," Dean said with a smirk.

"Ghosts are weird," Ariel agreed. "Can't find any normal ones. They've all got to be assholes."

"Witches are the worst, though," Dean added. She snapped her fingers and pointed at him.

"True. Oh, hey, is this it?" She craned her neck to look out of the window as Sam slowed in front of a fenced house.

"We've gotta walk the rest of the way and climb the fence, but, yep, this is it," the younger Winchester replied. "I'll park out of sight, and then we'll get to it. Alright, here looks good." He shut the engine off as he came to a stop, putting the Impala in park. "Let's gear up, guys."

She got out of the backseat and walked around to the back where she, Sam, and Dean pulled out their guns, salt, and salt shells. She kept her eyes and ears on alert in case anything happened that could mean danger. Ghosts were always tricky, even if they were assholes, and that meant they could do anything. She loaded her shotgun and cocked it.

"Who has the lighter fluid?" she asked. Sam raised his hand.

"I don't think we'll find the bones in here, though," he said. "But who knows. Come on."

She held her shotgun in front of her as they carefully crept towards the fence. They weren't trying to be quiet to avoid attracting the ghost's attention, but they didn't want to attract any law enforcement who'd want to arrest them for trespassing. She reached the fence and looked up, scaling it with her eyes.

"Need a boost, Beauty Queen?" Dean asked with a smirk. She rolled her eyes in annoyance, put her flashlight between her teeth, and latched onto the fence, nimbly climbing up and making her way over the top, dropping down lightly to the ground. When she turned around, she gave both brothers a bored look, and they raised their eyebrows in surprise.

"Well. Color me surprised, sweetheart," Dean said, grinning. He and Sam both climbed the fence and hopped down beside her. He was in front of her with that annoying smirk on his face, and Ariel wanted to smack him and push him away as he wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her on the mouth, but she knew she actually didn't want to.

"I swear, you get sexier and sexier all the time," he said and winked at her. She kissed him, smiling as she closed her eyes and breathed deeply before pulling away.

"I know. Lead the way, hotshot," she said. Dean smirked at her but took the lead, crossing quietly towards the house and opening the door.

Silence and darkness and the smell of mold. Just like every old, haunted house he'd ever been in. There wasn't any sign of anything supernatural happening, but if they were patient, the ghost would want to fuck with them at some point, and they weren't going to go anywhere until they got some kind of lead.

Ariel looked around at all the broken, old furniture and the dust on the walls. There were a few faded pictures left, but she wasn't sure if they were actually pictures or just picture frames with dusty, old paper inside. She wrinkled her nose, glad that they weren't squatting there for the night. She thought back to Bela, who never squatted.

Suddenly, the sound of voices caught her attention. She stopped and tilted her head, listening hard. She gestured wildly to get Sam and Dean's attention, and she motioned for them to listen. Sure enough, there were voices. They couldn't hear what exactly the voices were saying or how many there were, but there were definitely people talking.

Dean began walking towards the sounds, Sam and Ariel following him, and he shone his flashlight down the hall. "Freeze! Police officers! Don't move!"

Ariel instantly put on her pissed off cop face and marched behind Dean down the hallway towards the people making the noise. One of them began making a whiny, high-pitched sound, and she made a face of disgust as her flashlight caught them in its beam, and she could see what looked like a bunch of amateur ghost hunters.

"Alright, alright, alright. Take it easy, take it easy," Sam calmly intoned from behind her, taking on the role of good cop.

"Shut up!" Ariel snapped to the one making the noise. "Let's see some identification. Come on!"

"Come on, now, all of you!" Dean authoritatively ordered. Ariel hid her grin; there was always something about Dean being in charge that was a turn on for her. She easily could've seen him as a cop, even though that line of work would never be possible for him not only because of his background with the law but because of all the hunting he'd done in his. Hunters never exactly fit in well with law enforcement.

"Let's see some ID!" Sam ordered.

"What—are we—are we under arrest?" one of the whiny ones asked.

"We are unarmed!" another one piped up.

"Oh, God. Oh, God!"

"Wanna explain that weirdo outfit, Mr., uh, Corbett?" Ariel asked, taking the ID from one of them and scanning it. She glared at the young man and saw him whimper under the fire of her gaze.

"Whoa. I know you," one of them said suddenly, pointing at Sam and Dean. She looked up and frowned at him.

"Yeah, sure you do. Give me some identification," Dean snapped in a bored tone.

"Yeah, ho—whoa—hold on a second. I know the both of you guys. Yeah. I do. I don't know the chick, but I know you dudes," the glasses nerd said.

"What?" Whiny asked.

"Yeah, huh," Glasses confirmed.

"Holy shit!" Sam suddenly mumbled, recognition coming over his hazel eyes. Ariel looked back at him and caught a flash of irritation settling into Sam's features, and she lifted her eyebrows, turning to look at Dean for more explanation.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Uhh—West Texas…the—the Tulpa we had to take out. Those two goofballs that almost got us killed. The hellhounds or something?" Sam asked, his face scrunching together as he tried to remember. Ariel frowned deeply, not following what they were saying. She could only assume that this was a job the brothers had worked before they'd teamed up with her. Dean shined his flashlight right into Glasses's face, staring hard.

"Fuck me," he mumbled.

"Yeah, we're not hellhounds anymore, ok? It didn't test that well," Glasses replied sassily.

"Ed, what's going on?" Corbett asked.

"They're not cops, buddy—no, not at all," Glasses—real name: Ed—answered.

"Ed, Ed, you had a partner, too, didn't you? A different guy?" Dean asked, an amused grin coming over his face.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," Ed said, nodding.

"Is he around here somewhere?" Ariel asked, stepping forward.

"He's around, chasing ghosts," Ed replied, his tone suddenly changing as he got a good look at her. "That's what we do. It's a really, really dangerous job, but you know. We live on the edge. We're rebels."

She blinked. "Ok. Well, uh, the big boys are here now, so listen, why don't you and Rambo get your little girlfriends and get out of here?"

"I don't have a girlfriend," Ed said, his eyes lingering over Ariel's boobs. "But I could change that."

"Alright, alright, get the fuck out," Dean said, stepping closer to Ariel.

"Alright, listen here, Chisel Chest, ok?" Ed snapped. "We were here first. We've already set up base camp. We beat you."

Dean turned to look at Sam. "They were here first." He looked at Ariel. "Hear that, honey? They were here first."

"Mmhmm," Ed agreed, looking smug. But that didn't last long as Dean reached out and grabbed Ed's shirt, pushing him up against a wall. "Oh, God!"

"Ed…" he said in a low voice.

"Yeah?" Ed's voice came out a little more high-pitched.

"Where's your partner?" Dean asked, his voice seeming to sink even lower. He wasn't even holding Ed against the wall all that hard, but the guy was squirming and wincing like Dean was pinning him there in an iron grip. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes right in the guys face. Ariel was snickering behind him, and he knew that she was really getting a kick out of this, particularly since this asshole had just been grossly hitting on her.

"He's upstairs," Ed gasped out dramatically. Dean released the wimp and backed away, turning back towards Ariel and Sam.

"Where's this base camp you were talking about?" Sam asked. Ed cleared his throat and pointed a shaky finger.

"This way. We can go there," he said. His eyes flicked over to Corbett. "Come on, Corbett. And—and Corbett, we don't have to include that bit in the final edit. We'll just—we'll just leave that out."

He walked into the living room, leading the way for the Winchesters and Ariel. Ariel gazed distastefully at all of the expensive, junky shit that they had in their "base camp." Basically everything they had was overpriced, useless ghost hunting shit that was used to attract the amateurs. The real deal hunters knew that all you needed was an EMF and salt.

"What are you doing in the Morton House, Ed? On leap year—what were you thinking?" Dean asked impatiently.

"We're here to spend the night, ok? It's for our TV show," Ed replied in a "duh" tone. He looked over at Ariel and seemed to puff his chest up. "We've got our own TV show. It's a real up and coming thing. Maybe you've heard of it. It's called—"

"Nope, never heard of it," Ariel deadpanned.

"What? Great. Perfect," Sam irritably grumbled as Ed opened and closed his mouth at Ariel's rebuke. She looked over at Dean, and they both simultaneously rolled their eyes.

"Yeah, nobody's ever spent the night here before," Corbett piped up.

"Uh, yeah, actually, they have," Ariel corrected in a bored, dull voice.

"Uh, _we've_ never heard of them," Ed responded, using his sassy voice from earlier.

"Yeah, you know why? 'Cause the ones that have haven't lived to talk about it!" Dean snapped. He paused. "And stop looking at her like that!"

"Wh—what—like what?" Ed sputtered. "I'm not looking—at—I'm not—oh, come on. I don't believe you."

"Look—missing persons reports going back almost half a century. John Graham stayed on a dare—gone. Julie Wilkerson—gone. There are tons more. All of them came to just stay the night through, always on a leap year. The only body they ever found was the last owner, Freeman Daggett," Sam explained. He'd slammed down his duffel bag and pulled out the proof so that the asshole could look at it.

"These look legit," Ed said, sounding impressed.

"They _are_ legit," Ariel groaned.

"Look, Ed, we ain't got much time here, buddy. Starting at midnight, your friends are gonna die." Sam was speaking with an urgency that should've scared Ed and Corbett, but Ed looked completely unfazed by anything the tall young man had just said. Before he could respond, however, faint screams and shouts put all of them on alert. Ariel could hear the sounds of people running and shouting but couldn't make out any exact words.

"Guys! Guys! Oh my God! Oh my God! Corbett! Corbett, we saw one! We saw one!" one of them was screaming.

"Get outta here!" Ed shouted in glee. He and the others began excitedly talking about what they'd just found while Ariel, Sam, and Dean just stared at them. One of them seemed to notice them, and he stopped.

"Hey, aren't those the assholes from Texas?" he asked. "Who's the chick?"

"Yes, they are," Ed confirmed. "I still don't have a name for her yet, but I know it's a beautiful one."

"Fuck off," Ariel snapped, unable to fight her impatience. Ed smiled.

"Tough. Unafraid. Would you like to be a Ghostfacer? We have—"

"Jesus, no!" she exclaimed. "Fuck no!"

"Alright, let's take this across the street, guys," Dean interjected.

"Crap, what are you guys doing here?" the guy asked.

"Come on, come on. We'll get you ice cream—our treat. What do you say? Let's go!" Dean waved his arms in an attempt to herd everyone out. They were all excitedly talking again, brushing off and not listening to them. He lowered his arms in irritation and looked at Ariel. "Are they fucking kidding?"

"I don't think they are, babe," she answered. "I really don't think they're kidding."

* * *

And so they still weren't kidding when Corbett disappeared. Ariel was fuming, just as she imagined that Dean and Sam were because these assholes hadn't taken their advice and gotten out of there.

"Well, it's 12:04, Dean. You good? You happy?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, I am happy," Dean snapped back, shooting a glare at his younger brother.

"'Let's go hunt the Morton House,' you said. 'It's our Grand Canyon,'" Sam imitated.

"Sam, I don't wanna hear this," Dean warned in a threatening voice.

"You got two months left, Dean. Instead, we're gonna die tonight!" Sam picked up a chair and smashed the side of the wall with it. Ariel stepped back, her hands raised in innocent defense as she wanted to be left out of it.

"Whoa! What the hell is going on, guys?" the guy named Spruce asked.

"I'll tell you what's going on," Ariel snarled before he could take another step. "Every door, every window, I'm guessing every exit out of this house—they're all sealed."

"But w-why are they sealed?" the girl Ariel had learned was named Maggie questioned, looking genuinely confused and upset by this information. Ariel forced herself not to lash out. These were a bunch of idiots who weren't worth her time and energy getting mad at. Unless they were the reasons that she got killed tonight by this ghost. Then they'd definitely be worth her time and attention.

"It's a supernatural lockdown, ok? Whatever took Corbett doesn't want us to leave, and it's no death echo. This is a bad mother, and it wants us scared," she replied.

"Or it just wants us," Maggie added. The EMF started going crazy again, and the Ghostfacers started that stupid yelping they always did whenever something supernatural happened.

"Everybody, stay close. Something's coming!" Sam called out. All the monitors were going static-y and crazy. Ariel backed up so that she, Sam, and Dean were close and all had each other's backs.

"Whoa!" she shouted and pointed as an apparition appeared in front of them. She held up her shotgun, keeping it close to her and ready to shoot if the need arose. But if this was an echo, she wouldn't need to since echoes were basically harmless. "Is this the same echo you guys saw earlier?"

"No, it's a different guy," Harry responded.

"Multiple echoes? What the hell's going on?" Dean wondered out loud. Ariel shrugged in response, her eyes still trained on the apparition.

"Fuck if I know," she said.

"Beats me," Sam added.

"Ok. Alright, alright, alright," Dean said. "Uh, hey, buddy! Hey. Hey. You're dead! Hello!"

"What's he doing? What's he doing?" Harry whispered loudly. Ariel sighed impatiently.

"It's rare, but sometimes you can shock an echo out of its loop if you can talk to the part of the ghost that's still human, but usually you have to have some kind of connection to the deceased," she explained.

"I'm all about connections," Ed spoke up.

"Fuck off, Ed," she intoned.

"Come on! Wake up! Be dead!" Dean shouted. The apparition started flickering, and it began to turn around.

"You guys hear that?"

"What's that sound?" The Ghostfacers began tittering amongst themselves again as the room was filled with the sound of a train.

"Snap out of it, buddy, huh? Come on, what are you waiting for? You're gonzo! You're dead!" Dean kept shouting. The apparition seemed to be caught in a spotlight, and there was the sound of a train horn. Ariel winced as the body flew through the air as if it'd been hit, and then it was gone.

"Where the hell did it go?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Alright, alright, let's herd out!" Ariel shouted, lifting her flashlight and holding it above her head. "Moving on. We have better things to look at." The Ghostfacers began following her directions as she, Sam, and Dean hustled to the front of the group. If they let the Ghostfacers lead, God only knew where those assholes would take them. Ariel looked up at the brothers, concern etched across her face. "What the fuck is all of this?"

"Dude, there's no records of any of this here. No one got shot here. Obviously, no one got run over by a fucking train," Dean huffed.

"Stay close," Sam called over his shoulder.

"Did the echoes take Corbett?" Maggie asked.

"Yes. No. I don't know. We don't know what's going on here. That's what we're trying to figure out, ok?" Dean impatiently replied.

"Alright, stay close. Ok, look, um, death echoes are ghosts, ok? Now, ghosts—they usually haunt places where they lived or died," Sam explained to the group. Ariel shot a bored look over to Dean, and he returned it.

"God bless Sam and all his patience," she mumbled under her breath towards Dean. He cracked a smile and gave her one of his crooked half-grins that she loved.

"Except these mooks didn't live or die here," Dean spoke up, adding to what Sam had just said.

"Right," Sam agreed.

"So what are they doing here?" Maggie asked. Ariel fought the unbearable urge to roll her eyes.

"Hey, give the lady a cigar," Dean said with a grin, but then he stopped smiling as he looked at Maggie who was staring up at him from behind the camera, just like she had been for the last God knew how long. "Alright, seriously, does looking at this nightmare through that camera make you feel better or something? I mean…"

"Um—I—uh—well, yeah. Uh, yeah. I think so," Maggie unconfidently replied.

"Oh," Dean answered, raising his eyebrows as if he couldn't imagine why she'd find that more comforting. He turned towards Ariel, shaking his head. "Well, honey, we've never really been on a date, but we've been to lots of haunted houses. I guess that's kind of romantic."

Ariel grinned. "For the two of us and what we do, I guess so."

"So what do you do?" Maggie asked, surprising them and reminding them that they actually weren't alone. Ariel looked over her shoulder at the woman with a slight grimace on her face.

"What do you think we do?" she asked. "We're here trying to save your asses—God knows why—from this ghost?"

"Um—uh—I don't know," Maggie asked. Ariel heaved a sigh, throwing a glance Dean's way before looking back at the camera.

"We do _this_ for a living," she said, pointing to the ground to indicate that what they were doing at that very moment was what they'd both chosen as their career.

"Oh, so you're, like, super professionals?" Maggie asked.

"What, super professionals?" Ariel repeated in a confused tone.

"Yeah, we're professionals, but you guys are seasoned professionals so you're like, super professionals," Maggie explained. Ariel snorted.

"Dude, you're not professionals. If you were professionals, you wouldn't have gotten into this mess," she said with a light laugh. Maggie paused.

"So you _are_ super professionals?" she repeated. This time it was Ariel's turn to pause. Suddenly, she lunged forward, and Dean grabbed her.

"I swear to fucking God—Dean—"

"Baby, it's not worth it—Ar—hon—stop—"

"Dean—let—me—go—goddammit—"

"Stop!" Dean tightened his grip around the blonde hunter until she stopped fighting. Her body sagged in his arms, but her glare stayed on the camera. When she stopped struggling, she pointed her finger at the camera.

"I'm not gonna try to hit you again, but I really don't like you," she said in a threatening tone.

"So is Dean your boyfriend?" Maggie asked. Ariel blinked.

"What the fuck?" she asked incredulously. "Is this some reality show shit you guys are running here?"

"Uh, yeah, technically, um, we hunt ghosts, but we also like to put a little romance in, too, to keep things exciting," Maggie nervously replied. "So have you been together a long time?"

"Yeah, we have," Dean replied, and he grabbed Ariel's arm before she could retort. "Come on, we have shit to do."

* * *

"So basically, what we've been able to figure out is that Daggett was a sick-o who liked to play with dead bodies, which explains the death echoes," Ariel said, repeating everything they'd just figured out. Dean nodded.

"Yep. We can't ever get a normal ghost," he said. He looked around. "Goddammit, where'd Maggie go?" He sighed and went out into the hall to find her. He saw her creeping along, jumping and letting out a gasp when she saw her reflection in the mirror. _This is fucking great. Scared by her own damn shadow_, Dean thought to himself. He stood behind her, and she turned around, jumping and letting out another little shriek.

"Closer to the herd, ok?" he deadpanned.

"Maggie? Maggie?" Harry shouted.

"Dammit, shut up! She's fine!" Dean heard Ariel protest. For someone who was so tuned into her emotions, Ariel didn't have patience for a lot of things, and one of those things was stupidity, though really, Dean couldn't exactly blame her. He was having a hard time keeping his cool with this asshats.

"Harry. Harry. I got an 8.6 and climbing fast. Something huge is coming. Look. Something big is coming," Ed frantically said. Dean walked back into the room and found Sam and Ariel herding the Ghostfacers back together into a crowd. He walked over to Ariel.

"Feel like a damn sheepdog," she grumbled to herself, loud enough for Dean to overhear and chuckle at.

"It's past 11, you guys," Harry announced.

"What? Nobody move! Hold on. Hold on. Stay quiet," Dean ordered. He looked around, on guard for anything that could be coming to get them. Ariel stood protectively in front of the group as he branched out with Sam.

"It's really cold in here," Ed said. "Hey, Ariel, you wanna—"

"What don't you understand about 'fuck off, Ed'?" Ariel asked with a sigh.

"Ok, I was just offering," the creep replied with a grin.

"Harry?" Maggie called out.

"Sam?" Dean called. Suddenly, Ariel realized that Sam wasn't there with them. She waved her flashlight around, looking for the tall, lanky young man and found nothing.

"Sam?" she shouted.

"Sam?!" Dean's voice picked up a hint more panic.

"Where'd he go?" Spruce asked.

"Do you think we'd be fucking calling for him if we knew?" Ariel asked testily.

"Oh, no," Maggie said, watching as Dean looked down and found Sam's flashlight. He looked up and made eye contact with Ariel.

"Shit!" Ariel hissed. Dean stood up, looking around.

"Sam?!"

Sam had disappeared.


	24. Need

**Shoutouts to roxylove7, eiahlaie, Laura-Lala, and Deirdreadire for reviewing! Yay! You guys seriously leave me the sweetest reviews. You all make my day whenever I get them!**

**This one is a long chapter to make up for the short chapter I posted last time. Just a warning, there's a very long, steamy smut scene at the end of this. You have been warned =)**

**As always, let me know your thoughts!**

**Enjoy =)**

* * *

Chapter 24

"Sam! Sam!" Ariel ran up and down the halls, her flashlight beam bouncing and reflecting off the walls as she ran. Her adrenaline had kicked into high gear, pushing her along. Suddenly Sam was there, and then suddenly he wasn't. _This is just my fucking luck_, she thought bitterly to herself. So far, February hadn't been that great of a month for her, aside from the Valentine's Day that she'd had with Dean. That'd been really great.

"Sam!" Dean shouted. "Sammy!"

Ariel turned around and found Dean jogging up to her. Worry was written all over his face as he approached her. She reached out and wrapped an arm around his waist, and he put an arm around her shoulders, absentmindedly looking around.

"Nothing?" he asked. She shook her head.

"He was just there, and then he was gone," she said. "How the hell could a ghost just zap him like that? He's a giant. He's not that easy to move."

"Tell me about it," Dean replied, looking down at her. "Dammit, I'm sorry I dragged you into this. You and Sam were right."

"Dean, we're doing a good thing," she said. "As much as those assclowns piss me off, if we hadn't come, they all would've died tonight. We're gonna find Corbett, and we're gonna find Sam. You hear me?"

Dean tucked his flashlight into his back pocket and put his gun in his waistband before reaching out and gently taking her face in his hands and kissing her on the mouth. She hadn't been expecting a response like that, but hey, she wasn't arguing. He rested his forehead against hers with his eyes closed. She kept her eyes open, and she smiled when she unfocused her eyes enough to make him look like a Cyclops.

"Hey," she whispered quietly. He opened his eyes and gave her as questioning of a look as he could manage with such close proximity. "I love you."

Despite the anger and panic of losing Sammy, a smile split across his face, and he beamed so beautifully at her that it almost physically hurt her to see him look so young and happy.

"I love you," he whispered back. He kissed her again, a quick kiss, and then he slipped his hand into hers. "I guess we gotta get back to the group and make sure no one else gets snatched."

They started walking back to where they'd last seen everyone when they heard the sounds of scuffling and shouts and grunts. Ariel frowned and looked up at Dean. "That can't sound good."

"Ah, dammit," Dean sighed as he caught sight of Harry and Ed fighting. He glanced down at her. "Shall we go stop a fight?"

"A couple that stops fights together stays together," Ariel quipped. Reluctantly, she let go of Dean's hand, and they ran into the fight. "Hey, hey, hey!"

"Knock it off! Stop it!" Dean shouted. He grabbed hold of Ed while Ariel latched onto Harry and shoved him against the wall. He heard the force of Ariel pushing Harry make a thud against the hard surface of the wall. "What the fuck are you doing?! Cut it out! We're down by two people." He turned around, shaking his head in disgust and began to walk away. "Sam! Sammy!"

Ariel released Harry from the wall and made an irritated sound in the back of her throat as she whirled over her shoulder and left. Dean slowed down and stood still, waiting for her to catch up to them.

"I swear, they're like children," he said. "There's gotta be something we're missing here."

Ariel stopped, her eyes wide, and she aimed her flashlight at Dean. "He was obsessed with the Cold War, right?"

"Uh, yeah, I remember that," Dean said slowly. She smiled, and then he seemed to get where she was going. With that, they both took off down the hall.

"Where are you guys?"

"Dean, Ariel, what are you doing?" The Ghostfacers yelled after them. They thundered after the hunters while they began flipping through the information they had.

"Ok, so Daggett was a Cold War nut, ok? He was—he was an amateur taxidermist. He liked to slow dance with cadavers, and all he ate were c-rations, so what the hell are we looking for?!" Dean asked, slamming a box down hard on the table in frustration.

"Horrible little life," Maggie chimed in.

"Yeah, a lonely life…a Cold War life. He was scared. He was scared…he was scared." It really hit Ariel then. She bolted out of the room, running down the hall, Dean hot on her heels.

"Scared of what? What? Dean, Ariel, where are you guys going?" Harry yelled.

"Wait, don't leave me in here, you guys!" Maggie exclaimed as she began running after the rest of the crew. "Where are you going?"

"Guys like Daggett back then, the ones who were really scared of the Russkies—they built bomb shelters. We're guessing he's got one. I'll be you it's in the basement," Dean said. He found the door to where he guessed was the basement, and he and Ariel went down. Footsteps behind Ariel told her that one of those idiotic cameramen was with them. Suddenly, the door slammed.

"Um, who closed the door?" Spruce asked.

"It did," Ariel snapped. "It wants to separate us."

"'Scuse me, sweetheart," Dean said as he pushed his way past her to go back up to the door. "Ed! Listen to me!"

"What?" Ed responded.

"There's some salt in Ariel's and my duffels. Make a circle and get inside," Dean called through the door.

"Inside?" Ed repeated.

"That's stupid," Harry chimed in.

"Inside your duffel bag?" Ed asked.

"In the circle, you assclowns!" Ariel shouted.

"Oh, ok. Yeah. Yeah." She heard them fumbling around up there, and she put a frustrated palm up to her forehead. Dean turned around and walked back down in front of her and Spruce.

"Ready?" he asked her.

"No," Spruce replied. Dean glowered at the guy.

"I wasn't talking to you," he said. He smoothed a hand over Ariel's hair affectionately and then began his trek back down into the basement. Ariel was as tough as the next hunter, but she was glad that Dean didn't mind going down first into dark basements because she'd always hated doing that. Obviously, she did what she had to in order to get the job done, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

"Hey, Dean, can I ask you something?" Spruce suddenly asked.

"What?" Dean asked in a deadpan as he swung his light around his surroundings. Ariel grimaced when her beam landed on an old, dusty mount of a deer's head.

"Earlier, you and Sam—he said you had two months left?" Spruce asked. Ariel turned around and glared daggers at him, but she didn't say anything.

"Yeah, it's complicated," Dean replied absentmindedly. "A while ago, Sam…" He looked into the light of the camera and then seemed to rethink his words. His face hardened, and he gave a short, hard laugh. "No, no, no. I'm not gonna whine about my bullshit problems to some bullshit reality show. I'm gonna do my fucking job." He turned around and walked away.

"Is it…cancer?" Spruce pressed.

"Shut up!" Dean snapped. He started walking farther away. Spruce directed the camera towards Ariel.

"Is it cancer?" he whispered. Ariel lifted her free hand and gave the camera the middle finger.

"Fuck off," she growled.

"Not talkers? I get it. I feel you, I feel you," Spruce said. "The strong but silent type is always—"

"Shut up," Dean said. "Do you hear that?"

"What?" Ariel asked. He beckoned her closer, and she crossed towards him, her eyebrows drawn together in a frown of concentration as she listened hard. She strained to hear it, and right at that moment, she heard the strains of a familiar song. She snapped her fingers in recognition. "I know that song! It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to, cry if I want to, cry if I want to."

Dean paused and looked at her strangely. "You can sing."

"Thanks," she said with a smile.

"Since when have you been able to sing?"

"I don't know. I just like to sing."

"Well, you're good."

"Thanks." She beamed at him while he continued to stare at her as if she were a rare, fascinating, beautiful creature. He snapped out of it and then walked closer to the wall in an effort to hear the location of the song better.

"Where's it coming from?" Spruce asked.

"Yeah, it's coming from behind this wall." Dean located the wall and scanned it up and down, gauging the strength and durability of it. A cabinet stood in the way, and he handed his flashlight to Ariel, who took it as though this were routine and second nature. Dean walked towards the cabinet and pushed it hard, moving it away from the wall. Ariel grinned to herself; there was nothing like seeing Dean Winchester be all brawny and muscley.

"Lookin' good, babe," she teased.

"Wow, you're strong," Spruce commented, impressed. Dean wiped his hands off on each other and paused, looking at Spruce before flipping him off.

"Ar, come help me," Dean asked. She quickly handed her stuff off to Spruce and rushed over to Dean to help him with the door. She really was nowhere near as physically strong as Dean was in the arms, but she knew he could use any help that he could get, and she helped push on the door. In a matter of seconds, the door was free, and they'd tumbled into the room where the music was coming from.

Sure enough, there was Sam Winchester tied to a chair. Wearing a paper party hat.

"Sam!" Dean shouted. Ariel pulled her gun out from her waistband and fired a shot at Daggett, watching him disappear. Dean looked over at her, and she shrugged. He wasted no time in hurrying over to Sam's side and helping untie him. Ariel could hear Spruce groaning about something, and she glanced off to the side, noticing Corbett at the table with the other corpses.

"Dammit," she hissed.

"Yeah, Daggett got him," Sam said, panting as he rubbed his wrists from where Dean had cut him loose. "Oh, it feels good to have the feeling back in my hands. Never take that for granted."

"What's this Daggett guy's problem, anyway?" Spruce asked, his voice mixed with disgust and horror.

"Loneliness," Sam answered.

"What, he's never heard of a Realdoll?" Dean asked with a grin. He looked over at Ariel and winked. They all began walking out of the room, leaving behind the horror and the grossness of their discovery.

"No, no, no, Daggett was the Norman Bates, stuff-your-mother kind of lonely. I mean, that's why he lifted these bodies from the morgue, threw himself a birthday party, except they were the only ones who would come. Anyway, so, at midnight, he sealed them in the bomb shelter and went upstairs and OD'd on horse tranqs," Sam explained.

"How do you know this?" Dean asked.

"'Cause he told me," Sam said as though that were the most obvious answer in the world.

"Oh. Yeah. Of course," Ariel replied in a blasé tone. "Ok, so now that he's dead, what? Same song, different verse, trying to get people to come to his party?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Stay forever," Sam answered. Ariel opened her gun, and some of the shells fell to the ground.

"Are those real bullets?" Spruce asked.

"It's rock salt," she answered and rolled her eyes. "Amateurs."

Ariel sat on the steps as Dean tried to break down the door. She had her chin resting in her palm, and her elbow resting on her knee. She glanced up at Sam, wincing at the sight of his bruised eye. She knew from experience that that'd hurt like a bitch come tomorrow. The long-haired hunter turned back to glare at Spruce.

"Seriously—you're still shooting?" he demanded in a pissed off tone.

"It makes him feel better. Don't ask," Dean said over his shoulder in an offhand way. Sam looked down at Ariel, and she shrugged.

"Don't look at me. I just wanna get the hell outta here," she said.

"Ah, hell, guys. Get in your ghost-role thing. Something's coming," Spruce suddenly said, his camera beginning to flicker. Ariel heaved a sigh and stood up, looking pissed.

"Goddammit, we never get a break around here." She pulled her gun out of her waistband and held it at the ready. She'd left her shotgun back with the Ghostfacers, and she was glad she'd brought her pistol because it sure as hell had come in handy several times. Spruce turned around, and suddenly Daggett was there. With one strike, the ghost had knocked Spruce and his camera to the ground. Sam had his gun raised and had fired a shot before Daggett could get any closer.

"Nice," Dean said, clapping Sam on the shoulder. "He'll be back, though."

"Uh, guys." Spruce had gotten to his feet, and he was glancing nervously at something over Dean's shoulder. Before Dean, Sam, or Ariel could react, all three hunters were flung up against the wall by the ghost. Ariel struggled against the force holding her still as she watched Daggett approach Spruce. "This is bad—very bad."

Someone appeared behind Daggett, and she stopped fighting. Corbett. It was the ghost of Corbett. Corbett latched onto Daggett, and they began struggling, and then they were gone in a flash of light. The force that had kept her, Sam, and Dean pinned to the wall was gone, and the three of them went crashing to the ground. Ariel groaned as she twisted her ankle, but it was only mild, and she stood up.

"You all right, dude? You all right?" Spruce was asking, rushing over to the hunters. All three of them were on their feet, wincing and trying to move, but they seemed ok otherwise.

"Oh my God," Sam groaned out loud. Dean looked at the camera and covered it with his hand.

"Can you put that shit away now? The ghost is gone," he said. "Come on, let's go find your little friends."

"We're actually adults," Spruce said.

"Like I give a shit," Dean answered pleasantly. He put his hand on the small of Ariel's back, giving her a onceover. "You ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, I landed kind of hard on my ankle, but I'll obviously live. It's just a little sore." She smiled at him, but it came out as more of a half-grimace, half-smile. "But seriously, let's get the hell out of here."

* * *

Ariel watched as the last scene of _Ghostfacers_ faded to black. She wasn't a fan of the team itself, but she had to admit that their tribute to Corbett at the end had touched her. Still, as a whole, the show itself had sucked.

"Jesus, that's what I seriously looked like when we left?" she asked aloud in stunned horror. She looked over at Dean with wide navy blue eyes.

"Ar, you looked fine," Dean reassured.

"So, guys, what do you think? Are you all right?" Ed asked excitedly with an expectant tone to his voice.

"You know, I kind of think it was half-awesome," Dean said nicely.

"Half-awesome? That—that's full-on good, right?" Maggie asked with a big grin.

"Yeah, um, I mean, it's bizarre how you all are able to honor Corbett's memory while grossly exploiting the manner of his death. Well done," Sam replied sarcastically.

Ariel saw Dean's hands move quickly and deftly under the table, slipping something into his duffel bag. He looked up and made eye contact with her, but she showed no reaction of having seen anything.

"Yeah, it's a real tight rope you guys are walking there," she added.

"Yeah, alright, guys," Sam said with that same fake smile. All three hunters stood up and started to walk out.

"Nah, that's reality, man. Yeah, Corbett gave his life searching for the truth, and it's our job over here to share it with the world," Ed explained seriously. Ariel blinked at him, unsure if he actually bought that bullshit, but then she decided that he did and just shrugged it off.

"Right. Well, um, our experience, you know what you get when you show the world the truth?" Sam asked.

"A straitjacket. Or a punch in the mouth," Dean added happily.

"Sometimes both," Ariel said with a straight face.

"Right," Sam agreed.

"Oh, come on, guys. Don't be 'facer haters just because we happen to have gotten the footage of the century," Harry protested. Ariel resisted the urge to vomit.

"You got us there," Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam added.

"Nope," Ariel included. "Well, we'll see you guys around."

"Peace out," Spruce said. She looked at him.

"Nope. No peace for you," she said. She sighed and turned to Dean, grabbing his hand in hers. "Take me as far away from here as you can."

"Oh, Ariel!" Ed called. She turned. "It never would've worked between us. I'm sorry to break it to you, but…I'm a man who just can't be tied down by a woman."

"Uh oh," Dean mumbled, a look of fear in his eyes as Ariel slowly and calmly released his hand. He nervously looked at Sam and saw that Sam had the same look in his eye as Ariel crossed slowly over to Ed. Ed was grinning at her, and she reached out and took his wrist. Dean's eyebrows shot up into his hairline, but then she tightened her hold and twisted Ed's arm behind his back and forced him to bend over.

"That's the Ariel I know," Sam murmured to Dean.

"Peace out," she said with a smirk, and she released his arm and walked away, her face cool and calm as she took Dean's hand in hers again and walked out the door. As soon as the door had shut behind them, Dean turned to her and picked her up, spinning her in a circle with a big grin on his face. When he set her down, he kissed her right on the lips.

"You are the most awesome chick I know," he said happily. "I love you. Have I told you I love you recently? 'Cause I love you."

She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his lower back, beaming up at him with a wide smile. "You can always say it again."

"I love you," Dean repeated. He bent down and kissed her one more time. "Ok, now let's go before they figure it out."

"What? Figure what out?" she asked. She glanced over at the Impala and saw Sam already standing there, patiently waiting for the both of them. He'd gotten so used to them having moments like that that he just let them happen with the occasional groan and comment. He watched Dean and Ariel approach.

"We clean?" he asked.

"Electromagnet wiped out every tape and hard drive that they have," Dean proudly announced.

"The world just isn't ready for the Ghostfacers," Ariel dramatically sighed.

"It's too bad. I kinda liked the show," Dean said diplomatically. She wrinkled her nose at him. "What? Come on, you have to admit that some of those shots of me were badass."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's just go, asshole," she murmured, but her eyes gazed at him adoringly.

"It had its moments," Sam admitted with a shrug.

"Ugh, not you, too, Sam-Sam," she said. He made a disgusted face.

"Sam-Sam? What the hell?" he asked. "Dean's the only one who can give me a nickname."

"Too late," Ariel said without missing a beat. She slid into the backseat of the Impala. As she did so, she realized the impact of her words. She really was too late—too late to save Dean from the fate that awaited him. But that was ok because she had her plan. As long as she didn't tell anyone, she would be ok.

Her plan scared her—it involved something she'd been avoiding for years, and now it was time to face it. It was the only way to save Dean, and she knew that she loved him enough to do it. Without a doubt, she loved him. Ever since he'd told her on his knees in front of her three or so weeks ago, their relationship had changed. Then again, it could've been because of the added pressure of his coming death that changed, too, but regardless, they were different with each other.

His hands lingered over her skin longer. His mouth was softer when he spoke her name. His eyes were brighter and more piercing whenever he gazed at her. Even the sex was different. It was still amazing, but there was an added quality that hadn't been there before. She didn't know what it was, but that was ok with her. She just knew that she loved him, and she was willing to face her biggest fear for this plan to happen.

* * *

The house was quiet for once. Ariel was surprised, but she wasn't going to let the moment slip away. She slipped quietly down the stairs to the living room. Bobby kept some herbs for spells down there in the drawers of his desk, and she needed some. Carefully, she crept across the hall and into the living room, quickly darting behind the desk and opening the correct drawers. She knew Bobby's drawers and systems and hiding places just as well as he knew them; he'd been sharing his hunting secrets with her basically ever since she'd started living with him.

Once she had everything she needed, she moved down the hall to the kitchen, opening the drawer with the false bottom and getting what she needed there. She didn't feel bad at all about deceiving Sam, Dean, and Bobby. Well, she did. She felt pretty shitty about not letting them in on her plan, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

She made her way back up the stairs and put the things she'd taken in the secret pouch of her duffel bag. Dean was still in the shower so he wouldn't be out for another five minutes or so. Sam and Bobby had gone into town together, and she'd asked to stay behind to research some more jobs. Dean was all gung-ho over finding more jobs, and she was doing her share in finding them.

The door to her room opened, and Dean walked in, a towel around his waist. Her blue eyes skimmed appreciatively over his body.

"Well, hey," she greeted. He grinned wickedly at her.

"Don't objectify my body," he retorted, but he was playful as he said it. He turned his back to her and put his boxers on, allowing the towel to drop from his body. She swallowed hard and looked away, innocently sitting down on her bed. He glanced over at her. "You find anything?"

"Yeah, I did. Looks like some minor stuff," she said. Dean glanced over at her curiously.

"Hey, are you like…are you ok?" he asked suddenly. She frowned in confusion and nodded, feeling the slightest bit of panic that he knew what she'd just been doing. She wondered how he possibly could've figured out her plan because she hadn't let anything slip; she'd been extra careful to make sure that she didn't look suspicious to anyone. She forced her face to stay still and innocent as she looked up at him with wide, blue eyes.

"What? Yeah, I'm ok," she said, giving him a strange look. "Why?"

"You've been sleeping a little funny," Dean said. Her head jerked back in confusion.

"What?" she asked.

"Like, extra thrash-y," he said, gesturing with his hands as if his movements would clarify things. He sighed, seeing her stare blankly at him. "Like you're having nightmares."

Her face softened. "Oh. Well. My dreams haven't been the best."

"Yeah?" Dean pulled on his signature jeans, glancing down as he zipped them up, but then looking back up at her. She stared grimly at him.

"Yeah," she answered.

"Wanna…I don't know…talk about it?" he asked. She stared solidly at him and shook his head. He pulled a t-shirt on and then a flannel on top of it. Ariel rarely denied telling him things, but she'd started doing that a lot more recently. Over the past few days—since they'd left the job at the Morton House—she'd been having nightmares. Dean knew exactly what nightmares looked like, and he knew exactly what Ariel Easton having a nightmare looked like, and she fit both categories perfectly.

"Look, I get, you know, not wanting to talk about things—I mean, hell, that's what Sammy and I do, but I know when something's bothering you, and your dreams seem like hell these days," Dean said. She stared evenly at him.

"I guess that's fitting. Considering that they _are_ about Hell," she answered drily. He paused in mid-button and raised his eyebrows, looking impressed with myself.

"Huh, I can read minds. I'm awesome," he said, grinning. She smiled back at him, but it wasn't genuine, and he dropped his. "Come on. Talk to me." He walked over and sat on the bed next to her. She leaned back against her propped up pillows, her knees drawn up at a ninety degree angle with her feet flat against the bed. He leaned forward and kissed the top of her knee, making her smile.

"You shouldn't be doing this to me," she said. "I should be doing it to you."

"Why? 'Cause I'm going to Hell soon?" he asked. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted saying them by the look on her face. She seemed to lose color, and her lips instantly dropped, any happiness on them gone. Realization dawned on him. "That's what you're dreaming about, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "I'm dreaming about when you go to Hell. Hellhounds, demons, Furies, the whole nine yards."

"It'll be ok," Dean said. "We still have some time left. We can still find who has my contract. That's why I wanna work as many jobs as I possibly can. See what we can find. I'm not leaving you just yet, ok?"

Ariel smiled sadly at him, wishing that it were true. But instead of fighting him, she just nodded and pretended like she believed him. "I didn't sleep that well last night."

"Come here then." Dean stretched out across the bed, his back to the wall as he pulled the blankets over him and held them back for her to join him. Ariel knew that she should be doing other things, but she could never turn down cuddling with him. She eased under the covers with him and tried to will her heart not to break when he wrapped himself around her.

He held her gently but firmly, his arms around her as she drifted to sleep, oblivious to the world.

* * *

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Ariel whirled around and found Elliot staring at her. She frowned.

"Am I dreaming?" she asked.

"When else do I show up? Does this look like a goddamn memory to you?" He angrily gestured around him. The dark warehouse was a memory, but seeing Elliot this pissed and upset in the warehouse definitely wasn't. She felt her heart crack in that way it always did whenever Elliot was mad at her.

"Why are you mad at me?" she asked.

"I know what you're planning to do, A. You don't think I don't know what those herbs and bones are for? I might be dead, but I know exactly what that spell you're planning on using does," he spat at her.

"I don't have a choice, Ell!" she protested.

"You _always_ have a choice. Always. That's what you told me countless times when we hunted together. We had a choice—we could be angry that Scott had been killed, and we could hunt to avenge him, or we could hunt to save people and keep them alive. We always have a choice." He brushed his hand over the top of his hair in a way that was so Elliot, Ariel almost smiled.

"We both saw what revenge does to hunters," she replied dismissively. "That wasn't even an option."

"Really? You don't think it wasn't an option for me? You don't think I never once considered killing every son of a bitch out there because one of them had killed my best fucking friend? God, Ariel, your family was my family, and that's saying something. Scott was like my brother, too," he said. "And you know where he is? Hell. Of course revenge was a fucking option. I just made the choice to not go down that path."

"Then you're a hell of a lot more stupid than I am!" Ariel shouted. "It was never an option for me."

"Will it be once Dean's time is up?" Elliot asked, his voice sinking so quietly that Ariel wasn't sure she'd heard it.

"No," she said darkly. "It won't be then because I'm _choosing_ to do this."

"You're making the wrong choice. Trust me on this," Elliot begged. "God, Ariel, be smart for once."

"I'm doing it for myself, too, you know," she haughtily replied. "I'm gonna save the both of us."

"Are you listening to yourself?!" Elliot frantically cried. "This is the worst possible thing that you could do. Once you do it, there's no turning back, Ariel. None."

"That's where you're wrong," Ariel snapped. "I know what I'm doing."

"There's that pride that's gonna fuck you over like always," Elliot snorted. "Please don't do it."

"It's my choice, Ell. It's always been what I was gonna choose," she said softly. She took a step forward and finally touched the dream version of her former partner, laying her palm flat across his cheek. She was close enough that she could smell the coconut shampoo he always used and swore by. He stared at her through his solid black frames, a thousand thoughts running through his eyes. She couldn't bear to look at him so she squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them, he wasn't there anymore.

"Ariel!" A scream from the darkness drew her out of her sorrow, and panic gripped her heart as she recognized the voice.

"Dean!" she screamed. She began running as fast as she could towards the direction of Dean's voice. "Dean, where are you?!"

More pained screams answered her, but this time they were coming from everywhere. Above her, below her, to the right of her, the left of her, everywhere. His voice wasn't even forming sounds; it was just screaming. Part of her wanted to cover her ears to block out the pain, but she couldn't.

"Dean!"

"Ariel! Help me! Sam! Ariel!" Dean's cries came, and she whirled around, desperately trying to find him. Suddenly, she saw him on the ground 30 feet away from her, and he was being ripped apart by things she couldn't see. Blood was pouring from his body, and he was screaming. She started to run but found that she was bound, and she could only watch as he died.

"Ariel! Ariel! Ar, wake up!" Dean was screaming, but he wasn't. His voice was concerned, not pained, and he sounded frantic. Ariel snapped her eyes open, and she gasped, roughly drawing in breath as she saw the walls of her room and the greens eyes of Dean Winchester above her. She didn't feel the tears streaming down her cheeks, and she couldn't feel her hands shaking as Dean pulled her up and into his lap.

"Dammit, Ariel," he said, his throat tight. She shook hard, and she tried to speak, but she couldn't. Instead, she just clung to him as if her life depended on him, and she sat on his lap as she tried to find some semblance of her sanity. Tears rolled silently down her face, but she still managed to keep enough control over herself to not collapse into him. She felt him tuck his face into her shoulder, and she squeezed her eyes shut as a new wave of pain rolled over her, consuming her entire body in that completely physical way that emotional pain possessed.

Dean was always surprised by how small Ariel actually was whenever he was faced with moments like this. When he was around her on an every day basis, she was so larger than life that it took physically intimate moments for him to remember that she wasn't anywhere near as large as she presented herself to be. And yet, every time she walked into a room, she seemed to suck up all the air in the best possible way. Her muscles were completely tense as she held onto him, and he gently rubbed his hand over her back. The rise and fall of her chest against his was soft and steady, much like Ariel herself. To his surprise, she pulled back from him and gazed levelly at him. She had tears streaking down her face, and she didn't look at all ok, but she seemed to be composed.

"I'm gonna take a shower," she said. Dean blinked, unsure that that was what she'd actually said.

"Ok," he answered questioningly. Reluctantly, he released his arms from around her and watched her untangle herself from him. The cold air of her absence replaced the warmth that she'd provided with her body. As she stood up, she paused and tilted her head, looking at him curiously.

"I know you already took a shower, but…" Her voice trailed off, but the look in her eyes was so hopeful that Dean knew there was no mistaking her suggestion. Eagerly, he stood up and gave her a half-smirk.

"You had me at the word 'shower,'" he said. When she smiled at him, he knew that she wasn't quite ok. Hell, she'd just woken up from a nightmare; even though she hadn't told him what she'd been dreaming about, he'd known from the second he'd looked in her eyes that she'd been seeing him die. Swallowing hard, he stood up and followed her down the hall to the bathroom. She was quiet as she turned on the hot water and locked the door behind the both of them.

She looked at Dean, seeing him watch her, and she felt her heart break all over again. Trying to hold the tears back, she walked over to him and began unbuttoning his flannel. She loved whenever he wore flannel because he looked like a lumberjack—she'd told him that several months back, and it'd become a running joke between the two of them. It seemed like a stupid kind of joke to have, and she wondered if it would even still be funny after he was dead.

Mentally, she forcibly blocked all thoughts of his impending death out of her brain. She couldn't handle it at that moment. She could only handle undoing one button at a time until she reached the bottom of his shirt; she could only handle pushing his flannel over his shoulders and down his arms; she could only handle the feel of his skin beneath his t-shirt as she tucked her hands up under the hem of it. His breathing was steady, but she could tell without even looking at his face that his eyes had deepened to that beautiful smoldering green that didn't seem to belong on the face of a human man.

He quietly obeyed what her hands suggested, and he stripped his body of his t-shirt. She stood for a few moments in front of him, simply looking at him. Her face didn't show any of her thoughts, something that was strange for Ariel, who was usually such an emotional person. But today, she held her voice void of emotions as she struggled to keep a hold on them. After a few brief moments, she turned away and began to take her own clothes off. Casually, without a big production being made of it, she stripped herself entirely. She was just as calm about being completely naked in front of him as she was about being clothed. When she looked at him again, her eyes weren't filled with any kind of sensual desire—she just looked. And so Dean removed his jeans and his boxers, his worry growing more and more intense the longer that Ariel remained so calm.

She stepped into the shower first. Instantly, her eyes closed at the feeling of the hot water, and she stood still as she let it wash over her. She heard Dean come in after her, and she sensed him standing directly behind her. His presence always did things to her, and she wondered how much she would truly notice her awareness of his presence after he was gone. She wouldn't be able to sense him come into a room again, and the thought of that hit her full force as she stood under the hot spray. Opening her eyes, her chest constricted, and she couldn't breathe as she realized that Dean didn't have long at all—he only had a little over a month, and then he'd be in Hell.

Quickly, she ran her wet hands over her hair to get her hair wet. As her hands skimmed down the backside of her head, Dean put his hands on top of hers, running his down her arms until they were at her shoulders. She froze, holding her hands on the back of her head, and she waited for him to make his next move. He moved his hands lower down her back, running over the wide expanse of her shoulder blades and moving around front to her abdomen. His hands were large and took up so much area across her skin, and she smiled as she saw how he seemed to envelop her.

Even when his hands were wet, she felt the gentle scrape of his hard callouses against her skin. Unable to help herself, she placed her hands on top of his; she loved his hands. They were hardworking hands that had fought for many things—they'd fought for his life, for Sam, for Bobby, for his dad, for her. They were the hands of someone who didn't give up easily, and that was just who she needed him to be: someone who didn't give up without a fight. The firm pressure of his hands gently brought her closer back towards him so that she could rest her head back against his chest.

For several moments, they just stood there. There wasn't anything sexual in their being with each other; they simply stood against each other and supported each other physically, emotionally, and mentally because that was all they could do at that moment in time. Eventually, Ariel lifted her hands away from his and lifted them over her head to run over the back of Dean's hair. Her hands landed on the back of his neck, and she tightened her grip on his hair, something that she knew was a turn on for him. Sure enough, his hands slid up from her stomach to cup her breasts.

A small sigh escaped Ariel's mouth, and Dean used the opportunity to lean his head down and kiss her neck. The contact of his mouth on the sensitive skin made her arch her back, her hips rocking back against him. They had definitely crossed the lines between supporting each other to wanting sex with each other. Slowly, his hands moved up and down her sides as he caressed her wet skin and slick curves. She turned so that she could face him. The water was now beating at her back, making her skin turn pink with the pressure and the heat of it. Her eyes gazed up at him, and she placed her hands on his chest. Her hands were extra warm from the water, and they warmed his skin even more.

Dean held his breath as Ariel leaned forward and kissed his smooth chest. Sensation overwhelmed him, and he could feel himself growing hard as she continued to touch him. Her hands ran up his arms to his shoulders, and she pulled a little bit to get his face down closer to her. When he lowered his head several inches, she grabbed the back of his head and kissed him hard. Her tongue darted into his mouth, and a small moan echoed in the back of his throat. Gently, he took hold of her hips and pressed her closer to him, deepening the kiss, his fingers pressing into the small of her back.

"I love you," she whispered without warning, her voice sounding tired against his lips. Her pain was masked beneath the exhaustion, and it burned brightly in Dean's brain. He moved one hand between them and lowered it between her legs. She paused as he slid a finger inside her and began to move it slowly in and out. Her blue eyes were wide open, and they were filled with a hungry need as she stared up at Dean.

"Dean," she said. That was all he needed. In one fluid motion, he'd picked her up and settled her against the wall of the shower, his hips pinning her and holding her in place. He marveled again at how light she was; all the years of shooting, fighting, running, and training had left her without any fat on her body, and with her small build, even the weight of her solidly toned muscles didn't make her that heavy. As he placed her against the wall, her legs easily parted and wrapped around his waist, her eyes growing desperate with anticipation as she waited for him to enter her.

But he didn't. Not yet.

Dean forced himself to be still and to look her in the eyes. Even though they were in the shower, he could see that her eyes were filling with tears. She stared at him with a watery, hungry gaze, and he swallowed hard.

"I need you," he said. The vibrations of his voice echoed in the acoustics of the shower, bouncing around hollowly. He watched as emotion clouded over Ariel's face, and she nodded, unable to speak. She put her hands on his collarbone, half-rubbing and half-massaging as if she could rub her choked words onto his skin. He leaned forward and kissed her again, softly and gently. His lips moved in tandem with hers, and he knew he had to be inside her. One hand gripped her thigh, and the other snaked around her waist to draw her closer towards him. His eyes stayed on hers, heated and needy. With one easy thrust, he sank into her. The feeling of being inside her was extraordinary, and he found that he was breathing hard through his nose as he struggled to steady himself.

Her legs were locked around his waist, and she rocked her hips against his, an enticement for him to move. A hiss escaped between his lips, and his eyebrows drew together as he allowed himself to pull back and then to push back forward. Ariel sighed, her eyes closed and her head falling back at the feeling. Dean began to move painfully slowly inside her, and he kissed her exposed, wet shoulder. As he closed the space between them, her arms wrapped around his neck, locking him into place against her. She was stretched to her capacity, but it was a good kind of stretch that made her feel full of him in a way she couldn't get otherwise.

Her breath caught in her throat as he began to thrust deeper within her, his pace still gloriously slow. With each thrust, she would move her hips against his in a way that tortured him just as much as his movements tortured her. Her victory was voiced when Dean let out a low moan against her neck, just below her ear. The vibration of it against her skin made her arch her back, changing the angle of his penetration inside her, and he gripped her to him even tighter.

Suddenly, a wave of emotion ripped over Ariel with a strength she'd never experienced before. She was shaken by it, left breathless as tears came to her eyes, and hugged Dean closer to her. It seemed as though she couldn't get close enough to him; he was inside her, and she wanted him closer still. Her heart was breaking a thousand times over with each time he slid deeper into her and each ragged breath she drew in. She clutched his back, her fingernails digging into his skin, but he made no protest, no movement to stop her.

His hips began to move faster, and she knew that she wouldn't last long. She could feel the deep burn building up in her center that meant her orgasm was just around the corner. Dean's face was hidden from her, tucked into her neck as his lips worked on her, nipping and sucking and kissing and licking all the right places. He left a trail of fire behind him wherever he went. He kissed her jawline, leading him to her mouth, and he kissed her with all the passion he had inside him.

"Dean," she breathlessly gasped. He grew harder at the sound of his name on her lips, and he hungrily accepted her moan into his mouth. His release was coming quickly, and he pushed himself inside her as deeply as he could. He was buried inside her body, inside her slickness to the very heat of her core. He groaned, the sensation of moving bringing him closer and closer. He drove into her, the wet slap of his hips against hers sounding throughout the shower. He was grinding, thrusting, pounding.

"God, Ariel," he groaned, his head falling back and exposing his throat. His hand pushed one of her thighs wider, and he was granted access to go deeper inside her. That was all the leverage he needed; his deeper thrusts hit that spot within her, hitting it repeatedly, and she cried out as that burning sensation in her center spread out between her legs and made her curl her fingernails into his back. She was lost, floating inside only physical feelings of Dean taking her over the edge and back again. Her senses came back to her, and she gripped his face between her hands as he released inside her body, spilling seamlessly as he shuddered and gasped in her arms.

Dean's knees were weak, and he slid slowly to the floor of the shower, taking Ariel with him. He landed in a kneeling position with her straddled over him. Her forehead was on his shoulder, and he could hear her gasping as she came back down to Earth. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, overwhelmed by the sudden swell of warmth that came over him.

"Ariel, I love you so much," he sighed. She pulled back and put her forehead against his, her eyes open as she gazed into the green depths of his eyes.

"I need you, too," she said simply, responding to his declaration earlier. She moved her face back several inches and ran her index finger over the freckles she loved so much on his cheekbones. A genuine smile pulled the corners of her lovely mouth up, and she kissed him unexpectedly on the bridge of his nose. "Are you ok?"

"I kinda can't feel some parts of my body, but that only means that was some good sex," he said with a cheeky grin. Her smile broadened.

"We always have good sex. You good enough to help me shower?"

"Isn't that what I was doing?"

"Ha ha, funny. You're cute."

"You say this like I didn't know it already."

"Know what I'm thinking? That you'd be a lot cuter if you helped me get clean." Ariel smirked, and she slowly stood up, holding her hands out for him to grab onto to get up off the shower floor. He rolled his eyes but took her hands. Just like that, they could go from having a serious, intimate moment with each other to joking and messing around, and she loved that about their relationship. He was so easy to be with that it was just like breathing.

"I'm not four. I don't need help getting up," he said. She opened her bottle of shampoo and squeezed some onto her hand. She began lathering her short hair with the shampoo, the smell of lavender filling the shower. Her legs were still wobbly from the orgasm she'd had, but it was a good kind of wobbly that left her feeling whole and satisfied, the lingering feelings that Dean Winchester always left her with.

As she shampooed her hair, Dean grabbed a bar of soap and began scrubbing himself off with it. She couldn't help wondering if this would've become a routine for them had Dean not made his deal. Would they have always had wonderful shower sex? Would this only become even more comfortable? Jesus, would they have even gotten married? It was difficult to predict the future because, as Ariel had learned, anything could happen. But as she looked at Dean, she couldn't imagine anything happening in her future that didn't include him.


	25. Truth

**Shoutouts to roxylove7, eiahlaie, Laura-LaLa, and Deirdreadire for reviewing! You guys are SERIOUSLY the sweetest. I think one of my favorite comments was that "hot, steamy shower" has a new meaning haha!**

**Believe it or not, I've already written Chapters 26, 27, and part of 28, so there shouldn't be a delay in getting them out to you guys! Just as a warning, MAJOR cliffhanger at the end. Pay attention to it because it gives a clue on Ariel's plan ;) If you have any ideas about what her plan is, leave 'em in the reviews or PM me heh heh!**

**Also, not to rip out your hearts with emotion, but listening to "Say Something" by A Great Big World ft. Christina Aguilera while reading the emotional parts between Dean and Ariel is super fitting. I think that that's kind of their theme.**

**Ok. As always, let me know your thoughts, opinions, suggestions, questions, worries, fears, doubts, etc.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 25

"You've been scribbling in that thing an awful lot," Bobby said as he strolled into the living room, glancing over at Ariel on the couch. Ariel had her hunter's journal open, and she was recording the last job in it, writing furiously to get everything out as quickly as possible. She looked up at Bobby and gave him a half-smile.

"Yeah. Just trying to make sure I have everything written down for record-keeping's sake," she said. Bobby snorted.

"Since when have you been all about recording shit?" he asked. "I've been on your ass about writing your jobs down for years, and you always shrugged it off."

"I don't know," she admitted, squinting as she thought. "I guess that after Sam gave me this notebook for Christmas, I thought that since I had the means, I might as well do it."

Bobby was quiet as he studied her. Physically, she looked relatively ok. She looked tired, but hell, she was a hunter—when _didn't_ hunters look tired? He knew that she wasn't getting much sleep; he'd heard Dean confronting her about it earlier that day in the kitchen when he thought no one had been around to hear. Sam, Dean, and Ariel were only back for a few hours before they headed out on another job, and Bobby had been meaning to talk to Ariel as soon as he had the chance. She looked like she was doing ok, but he knew her, and he knew that inside she wasn't doing ok at all.

"How you holding up?" he asked. She paused and looked steadily at him. Blinking once, she sighed and shrugged, unable to hide anything from him.

"How obvious is it?" she asked with a wry grin.

"Actually, if I didn't know you, I wouldn't have thought anything was the matter. But I know you, so that means you ain't getting past me, girl," he said with raised eyebrows. She shook her head, but the smile stayed on her face.

"Uh, I don't know. I do ok when I don't calculate how much time he has left. And when I do think about it, I just get more panicky than weepy," she said, shrugging. "I could be worse, but I could be better."

Bobby considered her answer, rubbing his chin with his hand. "You been sleeping ok?"

She was quiet for a few moments, and then she reluctantly shook her head. Her hair was down to her shoulders by this point, and it swished over top of them, brushing them lightly. "No. I've been seeing Dean, um, die, I guess, so no, I haven't been sleeping well."

"Been having more dreams with Elliot?"

Ariel frowned, clearly disturbed by Bobby's question. "No. I haven't."

"Well, that's good right? Didn't he only show up when the Furies were on your ass, or you were in danger or something?" Bobby asked. She looked up at him and held his gaze and nodded slowly, but her mind didn't seem to be there with him.

"Yeah," she said. "That's when he would show up."

"Ari, look, I know that Dean's date is right around the corner. Just…take care of yourself, ok? I ain't—I don't wanna get a call from Sam or something saying that you've gotten yourself hurt 'cause you were being careless. Use your brain," he said. Ariel's frown deepened at his words, but she didn't say anything. She just nodded. Bobby was clearly suspecting her of not being on point because she was preoccupied, and to some degree he was right. He just didn't know that she wasn't exactly preoccupied with Dean's deal coming soon.

She was preoccupied with her plan. The plan that would save Dean.

* * *

"This fucking sucks," Ariel announced as she looked over the map on the motel bed. "I mean, we've hunted some fucked up shit before, but this has gotta be one of the most fucked up jobs ever. I mean, come on—some son of a bitch is going around and stealing people's organs for himself. How isn't that the most fucked up thing you've ever heard of?"

"I don't know, our Christmas capers were pretty fucked up," Dean added. She nodded in agreement, running a hand through her newly short hair. She'd finally broken down the week before and gotten her hair cut back into its signature short bob; her hair had been long enough to put into a tiny high ponytail, and that'd been the final straw for her. When it was long enough for a high ponytail, that meant it'd start getting in the way when she was trying to work, and she wasn't trying to do that life.

"Yeah, that much is true, but Jesus, this is—this is a whole other ballpark," she sighed. "Alright, so what are we looking at again?"

Sam pointed to some areas circled in red. "These are all the cabins. Most of them have been abandoned for years."

"So what the hell are we waiting for?" Dean asked. Before Sam could answer, Ariel's phone began ringing. She glanced up apologetically and answered it.

"Bobby," she said.

"Hey. Think I finally got a bead on Bela," the older hunter said to her. A smile split across Ariel's face, and she lifted a fist in victory.

"Oh, thank God. Ok. I'm listening," she said.

"Rufus Turner."

Ariel frowned. "Wait, Rufus? He knows something about her?"

"Who's Rufus?" Dean asked. She shot him an annoyed glance and made a motion for him to shut up.

"Yeah, think so. I put the word out on Bela months ago. He just called. Said a woman got in touch, wanted to buy some things," Bobby said.

"And he thinks it's Bela?"

"British accent, went by the name of Mina Chandler."

"Ugh, ok. Yeah, that's Bela. Isn't that kind of a sloppy move? Getting in contact with one of your old friends."

"Friend? Haven't laid eyes on him in 15 years. Just because you're on good terms with him doesn't mean I am. Besides, he's not the Christmas card type. I doubt she knows I know him. Or you, for that matter. Canaan, Vermont."

"Perfect. Thanks, Bobby. We're on our way. I'll have Dean stop to pick up some Johnnie Walker Blue."

"See, I knew you still had your smarts. You taking care of yourself?"

Ariel sighed dramatically. "Yes, Bobby, I'm doing just fine. You can speak with either Dean or Sam to have one of them back me on it."

"Ok, ok, I believe you. I'll see you soon, Ari."

"Bye, Bobby." Ariel hung up. "Ok, so word on the street is that former hunter, now hermit Rufus Turner knows something about Bela. We gotta vamoose, fellas."

"What? Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second," Sam protested with a frown on his narrow face.

"Why? She has the Colt. We have a lead," Ariel argued as she began shoving her things into her duffel bag. Dean had already begun gathering his stuff, and he glanced up for a brief second at Sam's protest.

"Sammy, come on," he said. "The clock's ticking."

"Look, I think we should stay here and finish the case," Sam said. Ariel paused and gave the younger Winchester a strange look.

"You insane?" she asked.

"Guys, there's no way she still has the Colt! That was months ago! She probably sold it the second she got it," Sam pointed out.

"Well, then I'll kill her. Win-win," Dean said cheerfully.

"Dean—"

"Sam, we're going," Dean said firmly, giving his brother a hard stare.

"No!" Sam exclaimed.

"Why the hell not?" Ariel asked in disbelief. "It's _Bela_. She may have the Colt, Sam! I don't wanna lose the chance of getting it back from her if she has it."

"Look, this…this here. Now. This is what's gonna save you, Dean," Sam said looking intensely at his brother.

"What? Chasing some Frankenstein?" Dean asked with a loud snort.

"Chasing immortality," Sam corrected. "Look, Benton can't die. We find out how he did it, we can do it to you."

"What are you talking about?" Ariel asked slowly.

"He has to die before he goes to Hell, right?" Sam looked at Dean. "So if you can never die…"

"Wait, wait, wait. Wait a second. Did you know that this was Doc Benton from the jump?" Dean angrily demanded.

"No," Sam said. He paused as nether Dean nor Ariel took their gazes off of him. "Look, I was hoping."

"So the whole zombie thing, it was lying to me?" Dean asked, anger crossing into his eyes as he realized what his younger brother had done.

"I didn't wanna say anything until I was sure, Dean. All I'm trying to do is find an answer here," Sam quietly explained. His hazel eyes slid over to Ariel, hoping for some back up from her. She pressed her lips into a thin, firm line, unsure of what to say.

"No. What you're trying to do is chase Slicey McHackey here. And to kill him? No. You wanna buy him a freaking beer. You wanna study him," Dean snapped.

"I was just trying to help. Ariel…" Sam looked back at Ariel, his eyes imploring her to help him, but she shook her head, the regret showing on her face as she wouldn't help him on this one.

"You're not helping! You forget that if I welch on this deal, you and Ariel die! Guess what, living forever is welching!" Dean exclaimed.

"Fine! Then whatever the magic pill is, I'll take it, too!" Sam shouted back.

"Dammit, Sam, it's not just you who gets hurt if I welch!" Dean growled. "Ariel gets packaged, gift-wrapped, and hand-delivered to the Furies!"

'Then she can take it with us!" Sam exclaimed.

"Hey, hey, hey, stop speaking for me! Both of you. Jesus Christ," Ariel sighed. "We've just gotta do what Bobby's been saying. We kill the demon who owns the contract, and this whole damn thing wipes clean. That's our best shot."

"Even if you had the Colt, Dean, who are you gonna shoot?" Sam asked. "We have no idea who holds the ticket."

"Well, I'll shoot the hellhounds then before they slash me up. Now, you coming or not?" Dean's eyes hardened, and he grabbed his bag.

"I'm staying here," Sam quietly replied, avoiding Ariel's eyes as she stared at him in disbelief.

"No, you're not. 'Cause I'm not gonna let you wander out in the woods alone to track some organ-stealing freak!" Dean spat.

"You're not gonna let me?" Sam's voice held a challenging tone to it.

"No, I'm not gonna let you." Dean glared at the younger Winchester.

"How are you gonna stop me?" Sam drew himself up to his full height to remind Dean that he wasn't the same little kid that Dean could order around anymore. A startled expression crossed Dean's features, and he blinked in surprise. "Look, man, we're trying to do the same thing here. We all are."

"I know. But I'm going. So if you wanna stay…stay." Dean stared expectantly at Sam, but Sam just kept staring at the wall. Finally, Dean shrugged and looked over at Ariel. She silently picked up her bag, signaling that she was coming with him. "Sammy, be careful."

Sam turned to look at Ariel and Dean. "You, too."

Ariel ignored the guilty stab in her chest as Sam looked away from her. She knew that he felt slightly betrayed by her; the two of them had been working at finding ways out for Dean for almost an entire year now, and it just didn't seem right to turn her back on this chance. However, this lead with Bela was also a chance, and Rufus knew and trusted Ariel. From what she knew about Rufus, he would be a lot more difficult to get along with if Dean went by himself, so her presence would do something to make the retired hunter more accepting.

"We gotta stop at a liquor store on the way up there," Ariel said as she shut the motel door behind her. Dean gave her a curious look, crossing to the Impala and climbing in it. He started the engine as Ariel climbed into the passenger's seat. "Rufus is easier to get along with if you bring along a certain kind of alcohol."

"So how do you know him?" Dean looked over his shoulder as he backed out of his parking spot.

"How hunters usually know each other. I was in a bind a couple of years back, and he helped me out of it. I think he knew my dad. Didn't like my dad very much—well, Rufus doesn't like many people to start out with—but I think he felt bad for me for losing my family when I was young, so he's pretty cool with me," she explained.

"How is it that I've been hunting my whole life, and I'm just now learning about hunters that you've been connected with for years?" Dean asked with a wry grin. She smiled at him and shrugged, staring straight ahead in front of her.

"Bobby. He believes in networking, so I guess I picked it up from him. I didn't really go like, off the charts until Elliot died, though. After that, I really stopped working with other hunters," she replied. "Wasn't your dad pretty much a lone wolf, anyway?"

"Yeah, yeah, he was," Dean carefully answered. "Wait, you said before that you ran into him once, right?"

"Yeah. It wasn't for long, but I met him…Jesus, I can't even remember exactly when it was. I know it was when Ell was still alive, so it was at least four years ago. We ran into him when we were working some ghouls, and he gave us a hand." She turned to look at Dean and saw him frowning.

"It's crazy how we've had all these connections for years but didn't just meet until a year ago," he said thoughtfully.

"Well, we've had this year," she carefully responded, not looking at him. Dean glanced at her, noticing the dark circles under her eyes and remembering her conversation on the phone with Bobby when she'd insisted that she was ok and taking care of herself.

"Yeah," he said slowly. "We have."

* * *

Dean stood uncomfortably on the front porch as Ariel eagerly rang the doorbell and knocked on the door, the bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue firmly in her hand. She glanced over at him.

"Stop looking nervous," she said. He jerked his head back.

"I don't look nervous," he said. He glanced up at the security camera that was now looking down at them. Ariel looked up at it and waved, smiling brightly.

"Rufus, it's me! Ariel Easton!" she called out towards the camera.

"Who the hell is that?" Rufus's voice came booming out. Ariel took a look back towards Dean and then back up at the camera.

"That's Dean Winchester. He's a friend of Bobby's and mine," she said. "Rufus, come on, let us in. You know me, and Dean's cool by me. Besides…" She held up the bottle in her hand. "I brought you something."

Instantly, the door in front of them opened, and a man was staring suspiciously out at them, specifically at Dean. He glowered at the tall hunter, his eyes scanning him up and down. "You say he's cool?"

"Yeah, he's cool." Ariel held the bottle out towards the man and grinned. His eyes landed on her, and he finally smiled, taking the bottle from her and opening the door up for the both of them. She stepped through the threshold and into the house, turning towards him with open arms. "Come on, you know me. I'm gonna ask you for a hug."

"Dammit, girl, you're still just as conniving as ever, showing up here on my porch with my favorite liquor and demanding a hug," he said. "You're here because of Bela, I assume?"

"Yep. Bobby gave me a ring this morning and said you'd called, so Dean and I thought we'd drive on over and see what all the fuss is about," she replied. Rufus glanced out the window and frowned.

"That's not your Mustang," he said. "Something happen to it?"

"No, no, my baby's taking a bit of a break now," she said with a smile. "Actually, I've teamed up with Dean and his brother Sam. I'm kind of back in the partner business."

Rufus's face seemed to soften, and Dean knew from the look on the retired hunter's face that he'd known Elliot. Rufus looked at the bottle in his hand and then back up at Ariel, smiling at her.

"Well, why don't we crack this baby open?" he asked. Ariel and Dean followed him into the kitchen while he opened the bottle and poured three glasses of it. Ariel took hers and snickered audibly.

"It doesn't take much to get me drunk, Rufus, and this stuff hits me hard," she said teasingly.

"Oh, no, don't tell me I'll have to peel you off the floor," the man sighed. She laughed and shook her head.

"Hopefully not. Bottoms up." She clinked her glass with Rufus's and Dean's and then knocked it back.

"You know, I don't even bother drinking unless it's this stuff. Nectar of the Gods, I'm telling you," Rufus smoothly intoned, staring at the drink appreciatively.

"Yeah, it's a nice change, you know. Most of my whiskey comes from a plastic jug," Dean said, laughing. He was surprised to see Rufus laughing with him. "So, Bela was here because…"

"She wanted to buy a couple of things, which is gonna take me some time to round up," Rufus replied. Ariel frowned.

"Where is she now?" she asked. Rufus stared hard at her and then at Dean, seemingly gauging them for something that neither one of them knew about. Then his gaze seemed to stay on Dean, and he squinted his eyes at him.

"Can I ask you something?" he finally asked.

"Sure," Dean answered.

"You got three weeks left. Why are you wasting your time chasing after that skinny, stuck-up English girl?" he questioned seriously.

"How do you know about that?" Dean's tone and expression were suddenly suspicious and guarded as he stared back at the former hunter. Rufus leaned forward.

"Because I know things. I know a lot of things about a lot of people." He glanced over at Ariel, but she wouldn't look at him.

"Is that so?" Dean challenged.

"I know ain't no peashooter gonna save you," Rufus declared knowingly.

"What makes you so sure?" Dean asked.

"'Cause that's the job, kid. Even if you manage to scrape out of this one, there's just gonna be something else down the road. Folks like us…there ain't no happy ending. We all got it coming," he said sincerely. Ariel finally lifted her head and stared at him, her expression unreadable. He looked over at her and then leaned in towards her. "You should never have gotten into this."

"I was born into it," Ariel said quietly. "My dad's blood had me marked from the day I was born, and you know it."

"I know," Rufus admitted. "I just wish you hadn't been dealt this hand, girl. You know it's only a matter of time before they come for you, too."

"Sooner or later," Ariel vaguely responded, holding Rufus's eyes. "But until then, I'm gonna fight like hell."

Rufus chuckled warmly. "There's that fighting spirit. That's the Ariel I know. It's a damn shame you got pulled into this life."

She shrugged. "Win some, lose some, you know."

"Ain't you a bucket of sunshine," Dean quipped, looking grimly at Rufus.

"I'm what you've got to look forward to if you survive," Rufus said with a smirk. He raised his glass. "But you won't."

"Rufus, remember that time when Elliot and I came here after we iced those changelings? I'd been nicked pretty badly, so I was out in the car, and it was Elliot who came up to the door, and you nearly killed him?" Ariel briskly changed the subject, acting as though she'd suddenly remembered a hilarious memory. Dean was so in tune with her that he knew when she was purposely changing a subject, and that was precisely what she was doing now. Though, really, he couldn't say that he minded that much; he didn't want to talk about the three weeks he had left and how he wasn't going to survive, but he did want to hear about Elliot.

Ariel was usually so quiet and guarded when it came to talking about her former partner; whenever she mentioned him, there was no guarantee if she would be ok to talk about him or not. But now, she was acting as though she were talking about a friend she'd seen last week, no trace of pain or regret in her clear blue eyes. Rufus grinned at her and laughed as the memory hit him.

"Yeah, I remember that. There was this scrawny looking kid standing on my porch with those huge glasses and blood all over him. Your boy was brave, Ariel. He was always brave," he said fondly.

Dean felt like it wasn't his place to join in on any of the conversation, so he just stayed quiet, content to listen to Ariel and Rufus remember stories of the blonde boy with the glasses who would never get to look forward to growing old like Rufus.

* * *

Ariel hadn't been lying about alcohol hitting her hard, and she wondered if Rufus actually was going to have to scrape her off the floor. They were all pretty drunk at this point—she was swaying in her chair, trying to pinpoint where exactly Rufus was.

"So, Bela…" she said.

"Hotel Canaan. Room 39. But watch your back," he said in a slur.

"I think we can handle Bela," Dean said with a smirk.

"Oh, don't be so sure about that. There are things that you don't know about her," Rufus answered with a grin, as if he knew something that neither Ariel nor Dean knew. Drunkenly, Ariel frowned and wondered what the hell he was talking about.

"Oh, and you do? Right. Because you know things," Dean replied.

"Yep," Rufus answered in a superior tone.

"And let me guess…you lift her fingerprint?" Dean asked.

"Yep," Rufus said.

"And that got you jack," Ariel finished.

"Yep. She burnt them off. Probably years ago," Rufus said, glancing towards the blonde hunter with a snicker.

"Fucking bitch," Ariel muttered under her breath.

"Yeah, so you're right where we are," Dean finished. Rufus shook his head, still looking smug and superior.

"Nope," he corrected. "You do her ear?"

"Sorry?" Dean asked, glancing at Ariel to see if she'd understood what Rufus was talking about. She stared back at him with glazed eyes. Yeah, she was a bit drunk. Not gonna be much help, he thought.

"You do her ear?" Rufus repeated. Dean paused for a few seconds, considering how he wanted to answer the question.

"Hey, man, I'll try everything once, but I don't know. That sounds uncomfortable. Besides, I'm in a committed relationship, so I have no interest in doing Bela Talbot's ear," he said.

"Ears are as unique to humans as fingerprints," the retired hunter explained.

"No kidding," Ariel spoke up, looking thoroughly impressed.

"Of course, that don't fly in the courts over here, but in England, they're all over it. A friend of a friend…of a friend faxed me 10 pages of confidential files within a day. All I had to do was send him one clean shot off the security camera," he continued.

"Right. One clean shot of her ear," Dean said, waiting for Rufus to continue. Suddenly, the man pulled out a file and slid it towards the two hunters, looking proud of himself and as if he were sharing a secret with the both of them.

"The so-called Bela Talbot," he said. Despite the fact that she was a bit drunk, Ariel took the file in her hand and frowned. Bela left a bad taste in her mouth in the most unpleasant way, and she didn't have any kind of feelings of fondness towards the English thief, but this folder held all kinds of leverage against her that Ariel and Dean could use to their hearts' desires. She looked over at him, and he nodded. Knowing that there was no going back after this, she opened the folder.

* * *

"Where's the Colt?"

Dean leapt out from his hiding place and pinned Bela Talbot against the door. His elbow was across her throat, and his gun was pointed at her face, showing that he wasn't fucking around. There wasn't a single flicker of fear in the thief's eyes; instead, she just calmly regarded him.

"Dean," she greeted.

"No extra words," Dean threatened. Bela held his gaze for a few extra seconds, and then she looked around behind him.

"Where's Ariel?" she asked. "I know she's here somewhere. You two are attached at the hip, and I know she wouldn't sit out this chance of a lifetime."

"Surprise, bitch," Ariel said, stepping out from behind another threshold. Her face was cold and hard—partially due to the fact that she had just sobered up from that alcohol at Rufus's—and she aimed her gun steadily at Bela. "Where's the Colt?"

"It's long gone. Across the world by now," Bela responded, her eyes hardening at the sight of Ariel.

"You're lying," Dean snapped. Ariel moved forward and grabbed Bela's bag, rooting through it.

"I'll call the buyer. Speak Farsi?" Bela asked.

"Fuck off, Bela," Ariel snapped as she continued to dig through the bag. Dean grabbed the thief around the waist and pulled her tightly against him.

"What the hell are you—" Bela angrily asked as Dean began to frisk her. He grabbed her gun and pulled it away from her, holding it in his hand. He smirked at her, that lethal glint still in his green eyes.

"Don't flatter yourself," he said in a dark tone. He used the tip of the gun to flip the lights on. He looked over at Ariel and silently communicated for her to stay with Bela while he continued to look. She discreetly nodded.

"Don't move," she ordered. Bela looked at her, anger in her eyes.

"You think you're so much better than me, don't you, Ariel? Why? Because Dean Winchester chose you? Because you've outrun the Furies more than any other living person has?" she taunted.

"Shut the fuck up," Ariel hissed. Bela laughed sharply.

"Have I hurt your feelings, sweetheart? I wish I could say I'm sorry, but I'm really not," she said smoothly. She looked over at Dean. "I told you I don't have it."

"Oh, yeah, I'm definitely gonna take your word for it," Dean snorted. Bela looked back at Ariel.

"How cute—the dynamic duo. Is this date night?" she asked.

"How many times do I have to tell you to shut the fuck up?" Ariel asked in a bored tone.

"Real sweet, Ariel darling. How will you feel when you find out that your precious Dean is unfaithful, hmm?" Bela moved closer to the door, and Ariel fired a sho, the bullet passing through the door. Bela jumped, glaring furiously at Ariel.

"Don't move," Ariel warned.

"It's gone," Bela called over to Dean, ignoring Ariel. "Get on a plane if you must. Track down the buyer. You might catch up to him eventually."

Dean finished searching and came and stood beside Ariel, stretching his gun out towards Bela with her. Bela's eyes flicked back and forth between the two, suddenly looking the tiniest bit worried.

"Are you going to kill me?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah," Ariel responded with a sharp laugh. "I shot you once. I can do it again."

"You're not the cold-blooded type. Neither are you," the thief said dismissively, glancing back at Dean.

"You mean like you? That's true. Ariel and I can't imagine killing our parents," Dean snapped. He knew he'd hit his mark when Bela's eyes widened in shocked panic, but she quickly tried to recover. He could feel the satisfaction radiating off of Ariel beside him.

"I—I don't know what you're talking—" Bela stammered.

"Yes, you do," Ariel interrupted. "You were, what, 14? Folks died in some shady car accident. Police suspected a slashed brake line, but it was all too crispy to tell. Cut to little Bela—oh, I'm sorry…_Abby_…inheriting millions."

"How did you even—" Bela gasped, her eyes huge as she gaped at the two hunters.

"Doesn't matter," Dean interrupted. Bela swallowed hard, and she seemed to draw herself to her full height, to maintain her dignity as she stood as the target to their guns.

"They were lovely people. And I killed them. And I got rich. I can't be bothered to give a damn. Just like I don't care what happens to the two of you," she snapped bitterly at them. Dean rushed forward, pinning her to the door again with his elbow across her throat. Ariel stood back, her gun still trained on Bela, and she noticed something get dislodged above the door with the sudden movement of Dean banging Bela against the door.

"You make me sick," Dean growled in a low voice.

"Likewise," Bela intoned. She glared at him, and he stepped back and pointed the gun to her head. She looked over his shoulder at Ariel and then closed her eyes. Dean looked up above the door and saw the herbs and frowned. He looked back at Ariel, and she lifted her eyebrows the tiniest bit. His gaze returned to Bela, and she opened her eyes. He lowered the gun, feeling disgust overcome him as he realized that he couldn't shoot her.

"You're not worth it," he said simply, his disgust showing in his eyes. He shoved her aside and walked past her, pausing out in the hall for Ariel. The blonde hunter slowly moved towards the door, her gun still out on Bela. She paused in front of the thief and stared at her.

"I might not be a perfect person, but I wake up every day and thank a God I don't believe in that I'm not you," she said and walked out, not waiting for a response and not looking over her shoulder.

She and Dean rushed out to the Impala, both of them jumping into the car. Ariel barely had her seatbelt on as Dean sped furiously out of there. She looked over at him as she put her shaking hands underneath her legs to keep them still.

"You saw it," she said. Dean nodded, his eyes still on the road in front of him as he drove like a madman.

"Yeah, I did," he said.

"You know what that means."

"I do."

* * *

Ariel could say that her life was a lot of things, but she couldn't ever say that it was boring. She stood over the operating table where she, Sam, and Dean had strapped down Dr. Benton, and she looked curiously at him.

"Who would've thought that it was just science keeping the bastard alive," she said out loud. She glanced over at Sam—he appeared to be ok, even though he'd been jumped by the Frankenstein doctor. "You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam absentmindedly replied. "Hey, it looks like he's waking up."

Sure enough, the doctor was waking up, and Dean crossed towards him, beaming cheerfully down at the guy.

"Oh, hiya, Doc. Wakey, wakey, eggs and bac-y!" he chirped.

"Please," Benton whispered desperately.

"Please what? You've been killing poor bastards for over 150 years and now you got a request? Shut up," Dean snapped.

"No, you don't understand. I can help you. I know what you need," the doctor begged. Ariel glanced over at Sam and found him looking desperately at Dean. She crossed over to him and grabbed his arm.

"Sam, no," she said quietly. He looked down at her and shook his head.

"We might have to cut him up into little bits. You know, this immortality thing is a bitch," Dean announced and looked up towards his brother and girlfriend.

"I can read the formula for you. You know…immortality…forever young, never die," the doctor said in an attempt to bargain. Sam stepped forward, breaking free of Ariel's grasp on his arm.

"Dean," he pleaded.

"Sam, no!" Ariel said more harshly.

"Sam," Dean said in a warning tone. Sam looked expectantly at his brother and then walked out of the room. Dean looked over at Ariel and then gestured with his head that she should come, too. She glared at the strapped in doctor and then followed Dean and Sam out the room to where they were standing, staring angrily at each other.

"What?" Dean asked in a bored tone.

"I mean, we're talking Hell in three weeks. Or needing a new pancreas in like, half a century," Sam said calmly, as though he were trying to talk sense into a stubborn child.

"Yeah, well, you can't exactly get those at a Kwik-E Mart," Ariel quipped sharply. Sam's gaze turned to her, and his expression became imploring.

"It's not perfect, but it buys us more time to think of something better. We just need time. I mean, please, just…just think about it," Sam pleaded.

"No," Dean said firmly. Ariel shook her head.

"No, I'm with Dean on this, Sam-Sam. I'm sorry," she said.

"Dean, don't you want to live?" Sam asked desperately.

"What he is isn't living. Look, this is simple," Dean said harshly. Sam looked at him with a confused look.

"Simple?" he repeated.

"To me it is, ok. Back or white, human or not human. See, what the Doc is is a fucking monster. I can't do it. I would rather go to Hell," Dean said. Ariel visibly flinched at his words, but she didn't say anything to contradict him or argue with him because she agreed; she just hated hearing him talk like that. Dean walked into the room with a purpose on his mind. She and Sam stayed out in the hall while Dean chloroformed the doctor again. Sam wouldn't look at Ariel, and she didn't need him to. She could already feel his sorrow radiating off of him as powerfully as her own was.

* * *

"You gonna make the call?" Dean asked, looking over at Ariel in the front seat. She nodded.

"Yeah. Bela and I have some history, and I wanna be the one to talk to her," she said. Dean shrugged, looking as though he couldn't care less.

"Either way," he said. "Sam and I'll step out and give you some privacy."

Dean got out and walked a distance away from the Impala, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Sam knew he was supposed to follow him. Sam looked at him with his puppy dog eyes and walked forward, expecting a verbal lashing from his older brother. As he crossed to his brother's side, he came to a stand still, looking down at his feet.

"Sammy, I'm gonna die in three weeks," Dean started out slowly. Sam looked up at his brother, his expression curious and pained all at once. He frowned at Dean.

"Yeah, I know, Dean," he said. "I've been keeping track of the calendar just as much as you and Ariel have been."

"I want you to promise me something," Dean continued. Sam's frown deepened, but he made no move to either agree or disagree to Dean's terms. "When those hellhounds get me, they're gonna tear me limb from limb. It's gonna be a bloody mess, Sam. Don't let Ariel see. I mean it, Sam. Do everything in your power to make sure she doesn't see it happen. I don't…I don't want her to see me like that."

Sam was quiet, but then he nodded. "Ok."

"Promise me," Dean insisted.

"I promise. I won't let her see," Sam said seriously. Dean nodded, his mind already elsewhere. He looked away from his brother and gave a short laugh, and he shook his head.

"This, uh, this year's been crazy, huh?" he asked. Sam nodded, a lump in his throat.

"Yeah, man. It's…it's been crazy," he agreed.

"You died, I made a deal, and I met a girl."

"I don't know which is the bigger event."

Dean looked up and out beyond the trees in front of him. "Neither do I."

* * *

Meanwhile, Ariel punched in the number she needed as she knew that Bela would be in the room by now. She heard the line ring and then pick up, no one answering.

"Hiya, Bela. Here's a fun fact you may not know. I saw your hand in Dean's pocket when you swiped that motel receipt," she said pleasantly.

"You don't understand," Bela said quickly, a hint of desperation in her voice.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I understand perfectly. See, I noticed something interesting in your hotel room. Something tucked above the door. An herb. Devil's Shoestring? There's only one use for that. Holding hellhounds at bay. So you know what I did, I went back and I took another look at your folks' obit. Turns out they died ten years ago today. You didn't kill them. A demon did your dirty work. You made a deal, didn't you, Bela. And it's come due," Ariel said firmly. "Is that why you stole the Colt, huh? Try to wiggle your way out of your deal, our gun for your soul?"

"Yes," Bela quietly answered.

"But stealing the Colt wasn't quite enough, I'm guessing," Ariel said lightly.

"They changed the deal. They wanted me to kill Sam."

"Really! Wow, demons untrustworthy. Fucking shocker. That's, uh, kind of a tight deadline, too—what time is it? Well, look at that. Almost midnight." Ariel's tone was hard, and she was surprised when she heard Bela start to cry.

"Ariel, listen, I need help," she cried pitifully into the phone.

"Sweetheart, we are weeks past help," Ariel said in a low voice.

"I know I don't deserve it."

Ariel closed her eyes as she heard the fear and self-loathing in Bela's voice. She really hated the woman, but she didn't condone rooting for anyone to die. Sure, she'd said that she wished Bela would die many times in the past, but even still, she found herself almost feeling sorry for the antagonist thief.

"You know what, you're right. You don't," she said. "But you know what the bitch of the bunch is? If you would have just come to us sooner and asked for help, we probably could have taken the Colt and saved you."

"I know. And saved Dean. I know about his deal, Ariel," Bela said tearfully. For a moment, Ariel didn't know what to say. She frowned and was quiet.

"And who told you that?" she asked.

"The demon that holds it. She holds mine, too. She said she holds every deal."

"She?" Ariel repeated, the curiosity in her voice making the pitch rise at the end.

"Her name's Lilith."

Ariel froze. Lilith. She knew that name. The same demon that wanted Sam dead. Of course it made sense. She felt sick to her stomach, and she swallowed hard.

"Lilith? Why should I believe her?" Her voice hardened to hide how sick and panicked she felt.

"You shouldn't, but it's the truth." Resignation was in Bela's tone, and Ariel hated herself for feeling bad for her.

"This can't help you, Bela, not now. Why are you telling me this?" she demanded. Bela sobbed harder into the phone.

"Because just maybe you can kill the bitch." Resolve came into Bela's voice with an almost amused tone. Ariel was quiet, and then she said something she wouldn't be able to take back, something that would come true in just a matter of weeks.

"I'll see you in Hell."


	26. Hellhound

**Shoutouts to Deirdreadire, Guest, eiahlaie, Roxylove7, and xBeautifullyxxShatteredx for reviewing!**

**Here it is, guys. The chapter y'all have been waiting for. Dean goes to Hell, and Ariel's plan goes into motion. If you want extra emotions, like I said, listen to "Say Something" by A Great Big World ft. Christina Aguilera =)**

**Enjoy! =)**

**P.S. Super smut in this chapter at the beginning.**

* * *

Chapter 26

Dean walked up the stairs to the room that he was sharing with Ariel. He paused outside the door, listening hard to see if he could hear what she was doing. When no sounds met his ear, he opened the door and walked in. The first thing he saw was her sitting on the bed with a wet washcloth pressed to her cheekbone. She looked pissed as hell and for good reason, too—Ruby had just freaked and punched her downstairs in the basement of the cabin they were all staying in, and Ariel had run out when Ruby had started screaming at Dean.

"Hey," he said softly. She looked up and weakly smiled at him, though her smile was completely forced.

"She got me good," she said, her voice almost too loud. Dean shut the door behind him and crossed softly towards her, sitting on the bed beside her with one leg tucked up as he turned towards her to face her. She didn't look at him, instead keeping her gaze trained down at her hands. "I wasn't expecting her to hit so hard, but yeah, she's got a good swing."

She turned to look at him and saw him freeze when he saw her face, panic wide in his eyes and his body tense. She frowned. "Dean?"

"What? No, I'm ok," he said. For a moment, he could've sworn that her face…he swallowed and put his hand on her back to rub it. His throat closed as he realized that this could be the last time that he was alone with her. For the past three weeks, they'd all been searching for Lilith, trying hard to track the bitch down so they could kill her and release Dean from his deal, but they hadn't had any luck.

"Is Bobby still downstairs?" she asked.

"Yeah, he is. He was worried about you."

"I'm fine," she said a little too quickly. As she tried to smile at him again, he saw the darkness of the circles under her eyes and felt his heart break into a thousand pieces.

"Come here," he murmured quietly. He held his arms open to her, expecting her to come to him, but she shook her head. He frowned, but she set her wet washcloth down on the bed next to her and held her arms out to him.

"_You_ come here," she said. And he did. He scooted closer to her, and she adjusted so that she was on her knees and could tuck his head neatly into her chest. He closed his eyes.

"Ar, I'm scared," he whispered. He heard her swallow, and she nodded against the top of his head.

"I know, baby," she said softly. "I know."

"I don't—I don't want this to be the last time I touch you," he said, his voice tight. He pulled back from her and stared at her, and she could see tears in his eyes. Her own throat tightened, and her lips trembled with the effort to keep the tears from streaming down her face.

"I'm here with you, ok?" she said, and her voice betrayed her by shaking. She tried to cover it with a laugh, but it came out as more of a sob. "Dean…"

He kissed her before she could continue. "I love you, Ariel."

She shook her head sharply. "No. We're not doing good byes, ok? I'm not saying any good byes now. We still—we still have some time. We don't need to do that."

Dean smiled at her, the look in his eyes sad but also happy at the same time, if that were even possible. He turned fully towards her and wrapped his arms around her hips, pulling her easily and fluidly onto his lap so that she was straddling him. He placed the flat of his palms on the expanse of her back above her shirt. Her pinstriped blouse was thin, and her warmth against his fingers warmed his heart.

In a flash, her mouth was on his, kissing him deeply and passionately. He could taste her heartache and anguish on her lips, the bitterness of it encompassing the usual sweetness that came with her love. He pressed her closer to him and tried to memorize the exact curves and swells of her body against him; he captured one mental picture after the other of how dark her navy blue eyes got whenever she was turned on, how sweet her lavender shampoo smelled as he nuzzled her hair, how her gasps of surprise and lust sounded in his ear. He tried to capture everything about her so that he would never forget it.

He twisted his body so that she was on her back underneath him, her thighs open and around his hips. He propped himself on his elbows in order to keep her from being crushed beneath his full weight, and he continued to kiss her, moving from her lips to the fine line of her jaw to the delicate skin of her neck. She tilted her hips against him as his tongue flicked out across her sensitive skin. Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt the weight of him on her, the pressure on the different parts of her body as he moved. She opened her eyes and began to unbutton her shirt, her eyes locking onto his.

She saw him swallow, his green eyes blinking extra hard in an attempt to keep his emotions at bay. He followed suit, undressing himself in front of her. First his button down, then his t-shirt, followed by his jeans. They both bared themselves to the other until they were completely naked and exposed. She turned to him and chewed the inside of her lip as she drank in the sight of him. He was a beautiful man—Ariel knew that she could be blind and still be able to know his beauty. She watched him reach out with one hand and touch her side, slowly skimming down her body over the dips and tucks between her breast and hip. She stopped him, taking both of his hands in hers and then placed them on her breasts.

"Touch me," she said earnestly. Speechless, Dean nodded, and he moved closer to her, so close so that his entire body was flush against hers. His hands were everywhere, velvet trails of fire everywhere he touched her. On top of his hands, his mouth followed behind, kissing her body all over. Ariel found herself on her back again as his mouth trailed lower and lower. She watched as he kissed her lower abdomen, one hand nudging her thighs apart. Before she could move or react, he put his mouth between her legs, and she gasped, her hips jerking hard. His tongue flicked out, darting lightly and tenderly over the place that she most longed for it.

"Dean," she gasped out. Her voice was high, and she threw her head back against the bed. Her hands moved down to thread his hair between her fingers as his tongue worked magic on her. He let out a low hum in the back of his throat, and she jolted at the vibration of it as she cried out and tightened her grip on his hair. She was close to the edge, and he could tell. Relentlessly, his tongue massaged, darted, and danced around that sensitive bundle of nerves, expertly teasing her and giving to her until she cried out his name and released her grip on his hair.

"Holy shit," she sighed as he kissed his way back up her body. He grinned and chuckled lightly, settling himself between her thighs as he nuzzled the space between her neck and collarbone. He was like an adorable puppy, and she just wanted to pepper his face with kisses.

"I _really_ love you," she said with a breathless laugh, cradling his head between her hands. She was gazing adoringly at him, laughing and beaming at him when she felt him push inside her. Instantly, she stilled and stared up at him with her clear blue eyes, her body accepting this penetration. He began to move slowly, his hips moving in gentle swells back and forth.

"Jesus, Ariel," he moaned, his eyes closed as pleasure flooded his body. He was worshiping her body with his, trying to show how much he loved her without using words because there weren't words for how he felt. There was no verbal way for him to describe the intense feeling of belonging whenever he was with her. He would never be able to find the words if he tried, so he didn't. Instead, he poured his love for her into the way he moved his body and brought her to that place where the world went away and nothing existed but sensation and each other.

Dean Winchester really had never considered himself a romantic person before, and he'd always loathed the term "making love," but as he moved inside Ariel, unable to think about anything but her and the love he had for her, he could only think of how he was making love to her. A hint of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, and he looked down at Ariel, seeing her smile beneath him, too.

And with each thrust, he was brought closer and closer to her while thinking about how with each second that passed was another second he would be taken away from her. The sharp pain that hit him in his solar plexus made him move faster, one hand sliding down to her hipbone and gripping it roughly in his hand. His movements were strong and solid, just like him.

Ariel looked up at him, savoring the feeling of having him fill her and stretch her. As he moved above her, the anti-possession tattoo on his chest rippled with the motion of his muscles. She reached up and put the flat of her palm against it, branding him with her searing touch. He groaned at the sensation of it, breathing hard. It amazed him even what her touch did to him.

His hand on her hip moved down to her thigh and pressed it wide. He continued at a steady pace, going as deep as he could, knowing just the depth that Ariel needed to climax. Sure enough, steady as night and day, Ariel's center filled with that promising burn, and when he brought her to her climax, she cried out his name and fell to pieces, no longer conscious of anything happening to her but him. The tightening of her body around him triggered Dean's climax, and he was unable to fight his body as he released inside her. He closed his eyes and saw the world go blank as his body emptied of everything but what made him up inside.

He slowed but continued to gently move within her, milking his climax for everything it was worth. Panting, he kissed her on the mouth and hoped that when he came down, the past year would have been a nightmare, and he wasn't actually about to go to Hell in a matter of hours. But he knew that he was just wishing, and so he whispered to her that he loved her because he couldn't find anything better to leave with her instead.

* * *

Ariel sat in the backseat of the Impala in the silence that came between the three hunters. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Bobby's truck was still steadily following them. He'd been in a foul mood when he'd realized that Dean and Sam had tried to leave him behind; Ariel had been a bit peeved about it, too, particularly because they hadn't told her that that was what they were planning on doing, but it didn't matter now. He'd caught them, and he was coming along.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam said suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"You know, if this doesn't…uh…this doesn't go the way we want, I want you to know—"

"No. No, no, no, no," Dean solidly interrupted.

"No what?" Sam asked, looking confused and almost slightly hurt.

"No, you're not gonna bust out the misty goodbye speech, ok? And if this is my last day on Earth, I do not want it to be socially awkward." Dean paused, glancing over at his brother. "Come on, don't look so wounded. I wouldn't let Ar do it, either."

"He wouldn't," Ariel piped up.

"You know what I _do_ want?" Dean asked with a grin. He turned on the radio and began blasting Bon Jovi. Ariel had never been a classic rock music fan, but she'd had to become one after riding around with the Winchesters, since that was all they—specifically Dean—would play in the Impala. After almost a year of riding with them, she'd learned that this was "Wanted Dead or Alive," and it was one of Dean's most played songs. She grinned as she saw Sam kind of wrinkle his nose in confusion.

"Bon Jovi?" he asked.

"Bon Jovi rocks. On occasion," Dean said. "Even Ariel likes this song."

"It's not bad," she added diplomatically.

"'And I walk these streets, with a six-string on my back. I play for keeps,'" Dean stopped singing and nudged Sam, "Come on, guys! ''Cause I might not make it back.'"

"'Oh yeah!'" Ariel belted out from the back, watching Dean's bright smile split across his face.

"Yeah!" he shouted.

"'And I'm standing tall!'" Sam sang, joining in and laughing.

"'I've seen a million faces, and I rocked them all. 'Cause I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride. I'm wanted—" all three hunters sang.

"'Wanted!'" Sam shouted out, singing loudly as he got into the song.

"'Dead or alive,'" Ariel and Sam sang. "'Dead or alive, dead or alive, dead or alive.'" Ariel didn't even notice that Dean had stopped singing until they'd finished the phrase. She saw the panicked look on his face, the look he got when he couldn't breathe. It was the same look he'd gotten when Bela had had his car towed back when they'd first started hunting together. His eyes were wide, and she was about to speak when suddenly, a police car began following them, its lights flashing.

"Shit," she hissed, looking back at it.

"We getting pulled over?" Sam asked, sounding surprised.

"I've got a busted taillight. It's not like we're in a hurry or nothing," Dean grumbled. He pulled out his license and registration, keeping an innocent look on his face as the officer walked over to the car. He rolled his window down and looked out at the officer.

"Problem, Officer?" he asked.

"License and registration, please," the officer requested in an official tone. "Do you realize you have a tail out, Mr. Hagard?"

Dean looked up, and his face changed instantly as soon as he laid eyes on the officer. "Yes…yes, sir. Uh…you know, I've been meaning to…take care of that. As a matter of fact…" Without warning, he swung his car door open so that it hit the officer in the stomach.

"Dean!" Sam shouted in alarm. In a flash, both he and Ariel were out of the car as they ran to stop him. Ariel stopped in her tracks as she saw Dean stab the officer, watching the man light up the way demons did when they died.

"Demon," she breathed. She saw Bobby running over towards them, looking pissed and concerned all at the same time.

"What the hell just happened?" he demanded incredulously.

"Dean just killed a demon," she said. "How'd you know?"

"I just knew," Dean replied, looking worried as he glanced between his brother, Ariel, and Bobby, who were all looking at him with concerned expressions. He looked down at the officer. "I could see its face. Its real face under that one."

"Trippy as fuck!" Ariel said in a singsong tone. Sam gave her a blank stare, and she shrugged defensively. "What? It is."

"Ok, well, why don't we take care of this car and the body?" he asked. Ariel looked at Bobby with her hands out at her sides.

"What, it _is_ trippy as fuck," she mumbled. He gave a half-grin and shook his head.

"Just help with the damn car."

Between the four of them, they were able to hide the car behind branches so that no one from the road could see it.

"So what, now you're seeing demons?" Sam asked out loud.

"I've seen all kinds of things lately, but…nothing like this," Dean admitted.

"Actually, it's not all that crazy," Bobby added.

"How's it not that crazy?" Ariel asked, frowning at the older hunter.

"Well, he's got just over five hours to go? You're piercing the veil, Dean. You're glimpsing the B-side," Bobby explained.

"A little less new age-y, please," Dean said with a frown.

"You're almost Hell's bitch. So you can see other Hell's bitches," Bobby said bluntly.

"So poetic as always, Bobby," Ariel quipped.

"Thank you," Dean said mockingly.

"Well, actually it could come pretty in handy," Sam said thoughtfully, glancing between the other three hunters to gauge their reactions.

"Oh, well, I'm glad my doomed soul is good for something," Dean said sarcastically.

"It is," Ariel said slowly in realization. "Lilith's probably got demons stashed all over town. We can't let them sound the alarm. She knows we're here, we're dead before we're started."

"Well, this is a terrific plan. I'm excited to be a part of it. Can we go now, please?" Dean asked, sounding tired. No one said anything; Ariel just exchanged a silent look and nod with Bobby and walked slowly back to the Impala. As she climbed into the backseat, she glanced down at her duffel bag. If they couldn't save Dean—and she suspected that they couldn't—she'd be pulling her plan in just a few short hours. She swallowed the panic and fear that threatened to build up in her throat, and she buckled her seatbelt.

* * *

Dean was painfully aware of the fact that they'd all leapt from the frying pan and into the fire. Demons were all over the goddamn place, and he, Ariel, Sam, and Bobby had split up to take care of what they could. Ariel was with him, and they were running by the house where Lilith was housed up inside when something slammed him from the side and into the fence behind him.

"I'd like my knife back, please. Or your neck snaps like a chicken bone," Ruby snapped, looking furious as she came out of the darkness. Without missing a beat, Ariel whipped out her special knife and wielded it towards the blonde demon. Ruby rolled her eyes. "Calm down, blondie."

"He doesn't have it. Take it easy," Sam threatened, coming out of the darkness, too. Ariel smirked. Looked like a party was happening right there. She didn't miss the nervous look that Ruby gave her knife, and she held it more firmly in her hand, daring the demon to try anything.

"How the hell did you get out?" Dean asked. Ariel snorted.

"Good question," she added.

"What you don't know about me could fill a book," Ruby said dully. Suddenly, Dean grimaced and jerked back as he looked at her.

"Whoa," he said.

"What?" Ruby impatiently asked.

"Nothing. I just—I couldn't see you before, but you're one ugly broad," Dean said in a disgusted tone.

"Sam, give me the knife before you hurt yourself," Ruby said, ignoring Dean.

"You'll get it when this is over," Sam answered, anger flashing through his hazel eyes.

"It's already over. I gave you a way to save Dean, you shot me down. Now it's too late. He's dead. And I'm not gonna let you die, too," Ruby insisted, her tone growing increasingly angry.

"Jesus, fuck off!" Ariel groaned.

"Try and stop me, and I'll kill you, bitch," Sam threatened in a low, dangerous voice.

"Hit me with your best shot, baby," Ruby challenged with a smirk.

"Guys, guys! Have your little romantic spat later!" Ariel hissed urgently, grabbing Dean's arm and gesturing with her head off towards the distance. All around them at different houses were pairs of demons, and they were staring at the hunters with their black eyes.

"So much for the element of surprise," Dean announced.

"Go. Go. Run! Run!" Sam shouted, and they all took off in a run.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," Ariel hissed under her breath as she saw the demons chasing after them. Sam reached the house first, his long legs having carried him much faster and farther than the others. She saw him go down to his knees and begin to pick the lock, but he was fumbling. When she reached the porch, she shoved him aside and began picking.

"Goddammit!" Sam snapped.

"What the hell is taking Bobby?" Dean shouted. As Ariel finished with the lock, the sprinklers turned on, and the demons chasing them were splashed with doses of holy water. Their screams split the air, and she couldn't help grinning to herself as they all tumbled in through the front door and shut it behind them. Dean let out a triumphant laugh until he turned around and saw the dead body that Ariel, Sam, and Ruby were staring at. Instantly, his face sobered, and his eyes hardened as he remembered the name of the game.

"You think Lilith knows we're here?" he asked somberly.

"Probably," Ruby sighed out. They began creeping into the living room, their guards all up as they looked for any possible living person in the room. Ariel held her knife of celestial bronze tight in her grasp, her blue eyes scanning over everything. Dean reached back and held her hand, something that made her pause because he didn't usually do stuff like that when they worked jobs. Suddenly, the door to the closet behind them opened, and a man came leaping out at them. Ariel braced herself, releasing Dean's hand and clapping that hand over the mouth of the man as she saw the terrified look in his eyes that told her he wasn't a demon.

"Shhhh," she whispered frantically to him. "We're here to help, ok? I'm gonna move my hand, and we're gonna talk nice and quiet, ok?"

The man nodded his head, and she released her hand.

"Sir, where is your daughter?" Sam urgently asked.

"It's not…it's not her anymore," the man said breathlessly, shaking his head and pain filling his eyes.

"Where is she?" Sam asked.

"Upstairs. In her bedroom," the man answered.

"Ok, ok, ok. Listen to me," Dean said. "I want you to go downstairs to the basement. Put a line of salt behind you at the door. Do you understand me?"

"Not without my wife."

"Yes, without your wife," Ariel insisted.

"No," the man protested. Not having time or patience for this, Ariel balled her fist up and punched him hard, knocking him out successfully. Dean stared at her, impressed, and she shrugged casually.

"I'm gonna take this guy downstairs, and then I'm gonna go up and check on Sam. You stay here and keep an eye out for demons," he said. He grabbed her arm and kissed her roughly on the mouth before dashing up the stairs before she could say anything. She was left all by herself, and she nervously looked out the window. She knew that she should've been checking the clock, but she couldn't bring herself to do it; there was no Earthly way that they would be able to save Dean. So the sooner that Dean was dragged to Hell, the sooner she would have to follow through on her plan. There was no going back.

* * *

Ariel didn't know how many minutes passed, but suddenly Dean was back, leading the mom, the little girl, Sam, and Ruby down the stairs. He turned around to face the mother and daughter.

"Alright, no matter what you hear. You, your husband, and your daughter stay in the basement," he ordered in a voice that left no room for argument. With a push, he shoved them down the stairs to the basement and followed them down. Ariel paused for a moment as he got the family situated, and she followed Sam and Ruby into the living room.

"Her pay grade, she ain't sweating holy water," Ruby was saying as Ariel walked into the room. She glanced over at the blonde hunter and then back at Sam.

"Ok, you win. What do I have to do?" Sam desperately demanded.

"What do you mean?" Ruby asked, staring at the younger Winchester questioningly.

"To save Dean," Sam impatiently insisted. He looked over at Ariel. "Ar…"

"Come on, there's gotta be something," Ariel said, even though she knew that there wasn't anything. But if she didn't look as desperate as Sam, they would suspect that something was up, and she couldn't deal with anyone possibly finding out what she had up her sleeve.

"What do you need me to do?" Sam asked. Dean walked into the room, staring quizzically at everyone and then realizing what was happening. He angrily grabbed Sam's arm and turned his younger brother around to face him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, his voice furious. Sam angrily yanked his arm away from his older brother.

"Just shut up for a second!" He turned back to Ruby. "Ruby!"

"You had your chance. You can't just flip a switch. We needed time," the blonde demon insisted, irritation lacing her voice.

"Well, there's gotta be something! There's gotta be some other way!" Ariel shouted.

"Whatever it is, I'll do it," Sam added, the desperation hitching in his voice. Dean grabbed Sam again, but not before shooting a glower over to Ariel. "Don't, Dean! I'm not gonna let you go to hell, Dean!" Sam fought his brother off, his strength coming out as the despair settled over his face.

"Yes, you are!" Dean shouted. Everyone froze at the power and insistence in Dean's voice. Silence passed between all of them. "Yes, you are."

"Dean…" Ariel's voice cracked, and she brought her hands up to her face, covering her mouth and nose as she struggled to hold herself together. He went to her and took her in his arms, looking over her head and Sam.

"I'm sorry. This is all my fault, I know that. But what you're doing, it's not gonna save me. It's only gonna kill the both of you. And I'm not gonna live with that." He released Ariel as she pushed him away, wiping her face with her hands. Sam looked away and then back at Dean, tears in his expressive hazel eyes.

"Then, what am I supposed to do?" he asked brokenly.

"Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Look out for Ariel. Sam, remember what Dad taught you…ok?" He paused as Sam nodded, the tears threatening to roll down his face as he understood and accepted that there was nothing he could do to save his big brother. Sam's tears tore Dean in two, and he swallowed hard. "And remember what I taught you."

He was surprised to find that tears were in his own eyes as he looked at his brother. He swallowed again and moved towards Ariel, taking her shoulder gently and turning her around to face him head on. He gazed down into her big blue eyes, and in that moment, his heart shattered.

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey. You're ok. I love you. I love you so much, baby girl. You changed me in this past year more…more than anyone has. I'm so in love with you, Ariel. You're ok, do you hear me?" His voice shook, and his lips trembled, but he took her face between his hands and kissed her fully and deeply on the lips in front of Sam and in front of Ruby.

"Oh, God…I love you. Dean..." she choked out, the effort of holding her sobs back making her shoulders shake. He hugged her hard and kissed her hair, squeezing her eyes shut as he tried to memorize everything about her for the last time. The chimes of the clock began to start, signaling that it was midnight. He pulled back and looked at her, studying her face intensely, and he smiled.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy," Ruby said quietly. The hellhounds began to howl, and the sound of it made Ariel visibly jump.

"Hellhound," Dean said, his green eyes trained on something very close to them. She could hear the sound of a dog growling, but she couldn't see it, no matter how hard she stared at the spot that Dean was fixated on.

"Where?" Sam asked.

"There," Dean responded, his tone cautious. Suddenly, Dean bolted, and Ariel followed him, hearing Sam and Ruby hot on their heels as they made it into the dining room and shut the doors behind them. Dean was on his knees, distributing goofer dust at any entrance that he could find. Ariel struggled to keep herself calm in the heat of the moment, trying to stay out of the way as she numbly watched him move.

"Give me the knife. Maybe I can fight it off," Ruby said, holding her hand out towards Sam.

"What?" Sam asked in a confused tone.

"Come on! The dust won't last forever!" she snapped. Sam hesitated, but then he started handing Ruby the knife when Dean frowned.

"Wait!" he shouted.

"You wanna die?" Ruby asked in disbelief.

"Sam, that's not Ruby," Dean said in alarm. "That's not Ruby!"

Ariel drew out her knife and moved towards the blonde demon as Sam also advanced towards her, but the demon in Ruby's body flung them both back against the wall, their knives dropping from their hands. The demon flicked her wrist and had Dean flat on his back on the dining room table.

"Dean!" Ariel shouted.

"How long you been in her?" Dean grunted, struggling to sit up to face the demon.

"Not long," the demon replied. Her voice was suddenly more girlish and more playful, nothing near what Ruby's sounded like. "But I like it." She looked down at herself. "It's all grown up and pretty." When she looked up, her eyes were glazed over white. Ariel instantly knew that the demon inside Ruby's body was Lilith.

"And where's Ruby?" Ariel hissed from her spot on the wall.

"She was a very bad girl," Lilith replied, "so I sent her far, far away."

"You know, I should've seen it before…but you all look alike to me," Dean growled. Lilith stared at him and then looked over at Sam, becoming seemingly interested in him. She crossed towards him. Panic filled Ariel, and she tried to struggle to get free, but it was all in vain because she stayed exactly where she was.

"Hello, Sam," Lilith greeted. "I've wanted to meet you for a very long time." She took his face in one hand and pressed his lips to hers. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Ariel grimaced and made a face. Lilith pulled back and stared at Sam in wonder. "Your lips are soft."

"Right, so you have me. Let my brother go," Sam demanded.

"Silly goose. You wanna bargain, you have to have something that I want. You don't," Lilith sweetly admonished. Her gaze turned over to Ariel, and she crossed towards the blonde hunter. "And _you_, Ariel Easton. Wow, the boys downstairs have _lots_ to say about you. Your daddy was involved with some very bad things, and it's made some noise amongst my friends."

"Fuck off," Ariel spat. Lilith smiled in awe at her.

"You _do_ have spirit. No wonder you've been chosen. As much as I'd love to kill you, my orders say that I can't. You belong to something much more…violent," she said, her lips curling up even bigger.

"So, this is your big plan, huh? Drag me to Hell. Kill Sam. Turn Ariel over to the Furies. And then what? Become queen bitch?" Dean snapped from the table.

"I don't have to answer to puppy chow," Lilith said. Ariel watched in horror as Lilith crossed the room towards the door and turned the handle. Lilith kept her eyes on Dean, and she smiled. "'Sic 'im, boy." And with that, she opened the door.

Ariel would never know what happened, but suddenly she was grabbed from the wall, and her face was buried against Sam's chest, his wide hands over her ears. She struggled, clawing and pushing him to get free; she could hear Dean screaming, dogs growling, and she could feel the rumble of the vibrations in Sam's chest as he shouted something she couldn't hear. His hands were squeezing her head hard, keeping her in place so she couldn't see. She heard a female scream and didn't realize that it was coming from her.

Suddenly, she felt Sam sink to the ground, and her knees had no other choice than to give out beneath her. The pressure on her head lightened up, and she pulled away from him, gasping for air, tears streaming down her face. When she looked up, she saw Lilith staring at the both of them in shocked horror. Sam slowly stood up, holding his hand back in front of Ariel so she would stay down.

"Back," Lilith commanded, but the fear and panic were obvious in her voice as she realized that she had no control over Sam. The younger Winchester began to cross towards her. "I said back!"

Sam knelt down and picked up Ruby's knife, a look of pure hatred and determination on his face. He growled, "I don't think so."

He moved his arm back to stab Lilith, but suddenly, the vessel opened its mouth, and Lilith went streaming out. Ariel sat shaking on the floor as she watched the vessel drop to the ground. Sam turned back towards the blonde hunter, the hatred gone and just sorrow on his face.

"Stay there," he said, holding his hands in front of him to ward her back. Shaking her head vehemently, she pulled herself to her feet.

"No!" she shouted. She launched towards Dean, and Sam grabbed her but not before she saw Dean's body. She jerked violently in Sam's arms, shaking hard as she saw the blood and gore covering the beautiful man that she'd allowed inside her body only hours before. "No!"

"Ariel, no, no!" Sam shouted desperately as he held her back. Suddenly, she turned around and punched him across the cheekbone. Stunned, he dropped his hold on her and stepped back, staring with wide-eyed shock at Ariel, who was making sounds that were mixed between hysterical sobs and something like words.

"I—I have—I have a plan," she managed to choke out. She turned away from Dean's body and tried wiping her face. "Sam, I have a plan."

"What?" he asked in confusion. She bolted from the room before saying anything else. Running from the house and down into the shrubs outside the house, she found the duffel that she'd stashed there before all of this happened. Grabbing it, she hauled it over her shoulder and back into the house and into the living room. Sam came running out, panic and relief mixing on his face as he saw her kneeling on the ground, shoving the coffee table out of her way.

"Ariel, what are you doing?" he asked, confusion and fear mixing in his voice. She ignored him, numbly moving about as she pulled out her supplies. She had her metal bowl, and she set it directly in front of her. Forcing her hands to stop shaking, she pulled out the special assortment of herbs that she'd carefully measured and crushed earlier that night in between the time period that she and Dean had had sex and sneaking out from the cabin.

"Ariel, what the fuck is this?" Sam asked in desperation. Ariel carefully tumbled the herbs into the metal bowl, also pulling out the bones that were necessary for the spell, too, adding them to the mix. Lastly, she pulled out a piece of paper with words written on it and her celestial bronze knife that she'd picked up right before she'd dashed out the door. Holding the blade to the skin of her hand, she cut a long, deep slice into her palm as she mumbled words in Ancient Greek that Sam didn't understand. When she was done, she looked up at him, her make up running down her face with her tears as she tried to keep calm. She tucked her knife up the sleeve of her sweater on the underside of it.

"It's a spell," she said calmly but shakily. "I can get Dean back."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Sam asked, his panicked tone rising.

"It's a summoning spell. It summons the Furies," she explained.

"What?!" Sam asked incredulously. Ariel nodded.

"They'll take me," she said. "And they'll take me to Hell, and I can go get Dean."

"No. Ariel, _no_, that's ridicu—you can't do this!"

"I already did, Sam-Sam," she said softly with a little smile. "There's no turning back."

"She's right, Sam," a cool, easy voice announced. Ariel looked up and saw the three familiar sisters in front of her. Sandrine, the speaker, smiled pleasantly at Sam.

"Sam Winchester," she said with a sigh. "I always wanted to meet you."

"You bitches," Sam spat.

"Sam, you don't have worry. We're not going to hurt you," Astra said, folding her arms across her chest. "You've done nothing that requires our attention. It's all Ariel. Besides, she's the one who summoned us here."

"Ariel, it's always wonderful to see you," Deianira said happily. "I'm so sorry that we have to meet under these conditions."

Ariel blearily stood on her feet and held her arms out to the side. "You've got me."

"Ariel, you can't!" Sam shouted. She looked over at him and smiled.

"Sam," she said softly, "it's ok."

"This has been a long time coming," Astra said gently.

"I only ask one thing," Ariel said, holding up a hand. She wiped away the excess tears. "You make it quick."

"Of course!" Deianira exclaimed. "Of course. We won't draw it out longer than necessary."

"Ok. So do it," Ariel said, her eyes steady as she stood calmly in front of them. Sam lurched forward.

"No!" he shouted desperately. Sandrine held her hand up, and he found that he couldn't move past an invisible barrier to get towards Ariel. "Ariel!"

Astra crossed towards Ariel, a long silver knife suddenly appearing out of nowhere in her hand. She came to a stop in front of the blonde hunter, her eyes scanning over Ariel's face. Ariel gazed back, determined and strong, the way that she knew she always would whenever she pictured dying at the hands of the Furies. Astra looked genuinely regretful as she pulled her hand back.

"I'm so sorry," she said.

"Just do it," Ariel commanded. She could hear Sam screaming at her, could see him out of the corners of her eyes beating the invisible barrier to get at her. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Astra's hand came shooting forward, and Ariel saw the knife enter her center. She didn't feel the pain right away, and she used that moment to whip her knife down out of her sleeve and gut Astra through with it.

Ariel sank to her knees, the sound of her own blood rushing in her ears as she looked up and saw all three of the Furies lighting on fire.

"What have you done?!" they collectively screamed, their voices a terrible screeching roar. Blood poured from the center of all three sisters, and the fire consumed them, burning brighter and brighter as the sisters' screams became louder and louder. Ariel landed on her side and rolled over to her back, the pain starting to spread throughout her body. She looked about her, expecting the Furies to still be there, but they weren't. Everything seemed fuzzy, and it didn't seem like it was going to clear up.

"Ariel! Ariel, oh, God—oh, shit—Ariel, what have you done?" Sam knelt over her, his hands darting about her face, her hair, her shoulders, unsure of what to do. Finally, he settled on lifting her head and setting it on his lap. Tears streamed down as his face as he stared at the long knife sticking out of her abdomen.

"Don't try to save me," she said frantically, grabbing his hand. "I have to die at the hands of the Furies to go to Hell. Sam…I know I can get Dean back. I know I can save him."

"Ar, no, you can't. You'll just—oh, God—no…Ariel—"

"Sam. Listen to me. Don't do anything until I get Dean back, ok? Don't try to make any deals to save him or anything. I've got this, Sam-Sam." She smiled up at him, blood coming out of her mouth as her eyes began to unfocus. "I don't know how long I'll be gone, but look out for Bobby. He's gonna need it."

"Ariel…Ariel? Ariel! ARIEL!" Sam shouted, but there was no response. Her navy blue eyes focused on a point above his head, and her hand went limp in his. Sam shook her, desperate for any kind of response from her, even if it was a scream of pain, but he got nothing. Panicked, he looked around the room. In this room, he had Ariel, dead. In the other room, he had Dean, dead.

Sam was all alone, and he had no idea what to do.


	27. Grief

**Shoutouts to xBeautifullyxxShatteredx, Laura-LaLa, stubbendick26, Deirdreadire, eiahlaie, and windyheartuki for reviewing! I think that's the most reviews I've ever gotten on a chapter for this story, and I love it. Never change, y'all =)**

**A few notes: windyheartuki brought up the subject of birth control with Ariel and Dean. Ariel gets the shot. (That's one of those things that the author knows but forgets to put in the story...oops!) That's why there's no mention of condoms or the Pill. Always practice safe sex, guys =)**

**Ok, I know that this chapter is SUPER short, but I wanted to put a chapter showing a bit of the aftermath after Ariel and Dean bite it, so here you are. If you want your heart ripped out, listen to Andrew Stein's cover of "In My Life" by The Beatles. You can easily find it on YouTube!**

**As always, let me know your thoughts and opinions, even though this is a super short chapter! Don't worry-the next one will be long again, and it'll be chockfull of its usual stuff!**

**Enjoy =)**

* * *

Chapter 27

Sam sat numbly at the kitchen table in Bobby's house. He was painfully aware of all the silence around him, something he'd never noticed until now. He wondered if it was because he'd never really had an opportunity to notice silence since there'd always been people around him before. Staring at the glass of alcohol in front of him, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do next.

Burying Dean and Ariel had been more emotionally draining than he'd thought. He wouldn't allow Bobby to give them hunters' funerals, even though the older hunter had fought pretty hard for Ariel to have one, but Sam had insisted no. Neither of them was to get a hunters' funeral. Bobby sat across the table from him with an open bottle in his hand. His eyes were ringed red with the evidence of his shed sorrow, and his goal was to get numb so he couldn't feel any more of it.

"She always had common sense until now," he said out loud. "I don't know what the hell she was thinking."

"Bobby…do you…do you think there's any way she could do it?" Sam tentatively asked. He watched as Bobby lifted the bottle to his lips and drank swallow after swallow after swallow. The older hunter lowered it finally and set it down in front of him.

"No," he finally said. "Ain't no way either of them is climbing out of the Pit."

Sam bit the inside of his lip as he tried to accept that his brother and Ariel were gone, that there was nothing they could do to get them back. Hell, he'd already tried to bargain with the Crossroads Demons to get them both back, and no one would deal with him. Not only were they refusing to deal with him because he was a Winchester but because of him, their "owners," the Furies, were dead.

Ariel had been smart. Even in Sam's grief-numbed mind, he knew that her plan had been smart. She'd known that by specifically requesting the Furies to make her death quick, they would make it slow, thinking that that would be the best way to punish her. The slow death had given Ariel plenty of time to stab one sister, knowing that the other two would die with the one since they were all three connected to each other. Her plan had been smart, but he knew that it wouldn't be enough to get Dean back.

* * *

Bobby knew that he needed to be there for Sam, but he didn't know how he could be when he couldn't be there for himself. The door to his room was locked as he sat on his bed with the bottle of whiskey in his hand. The picture album that Ariel had given him for Christmas was spread out in front of him, and he flipped through the pages, slowly watching the gradual progression of Ariel as a skinny, sad, little 12 year old kid became a well-adjusted—well, for a hunter, at least—determined hunter with a goofy sense of humor and a biting wit. He watched her hair grow longer and longer until she cut it off at the age of 24, leaving her with her signature bob.

He had pictures of her at homecoming dances, the one prom that she was able to attend, graduation…but he also had pictures of her in the middle of training. He paused at a picture of her glowering at the camera, a rifle leaned up on her shoulder, and he smiled. The picture was so Ariel. Pain choked his throat, and he shut the album abruptly. Sometimes memories were just too much.

Bobby caught sight of her duffel bag in the corner. Sam had returned it several weeks ago when they'd both come back from burying Dean and Ariel, and Bobby had left it in his room untouched. Releasing a sigh, he stood up and walked over to it, grabbing it by the handle and bringing it to his bed. He unzipped it and began digging through it. There was the typical stuff such as her sweaters, jeans, socks, make up and other girly shit, and then there was her camera and the crazy amount of film rolls at the bottom of the duffel bag.

Bobby pulled the rolls out and found a thick manila envelope beneath everything. Frowning, he reached in and pulled it out. There was nothing labeling it, and there was nothing warning him to stay out, so he didn't. He opened the envelope and found pictures. Tons and tons of pictures. Most of the pictures were of Dean. Dean smiling, Dean laughing, Dean crossing his eyes, Dean flipping the camera off. But there were pictures of both Ariel and Dean, her sitting on his lap or hugging him or making a face as he kissed her cheek. Some had Sam in them; most of the ones of Sam were of him studying or looking annoyed, but there were also pictures of him being silly and crazy, too.

And then Bobby found the pictures he'd forgotten she'd taken. He stared down at the pictures of himself. He'd been researching for another hunter, and Ariel had come into the living room, snapping pictures of him left and right when he hadn't been paying attention. But he'd looked up, and she'd made him take a few with her. Bobby hated looking at himself in pictures, and these pictures weren't any different, but the way he looked in them…as if he were doing it because he didn't want to say no to his kid. And that's what Ariel had been to him. Ariel had been his kid; hell, she'd lived with him longer than she had with her own biological parents. She might not have been his blood, but without a doubt, Ariel was his kid.

Tears clouded his eyes again, and he set the pictures aside. Dean going to Hell was one thing, but adding Ariel on top of that? He'd lost two of his kids, and he wasn't sure how he was going to get past it. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and tipped his head back to swallow the amber liquid, closing his eyes and enjoying the burn of forgetting.


	28. Part II: The Purest Sinner

**Shoutouts to Laura-Lala, Deirdreadire, and roxylove7!**

**Now that we're starting Season 4, this is starting Part II of this whole Dean/Ariel train.**

**Welcome to Part II: The Purest Sinner.**

**(I wasn't sure whether or not to make this a separate story, but I decided to keep it in the same one.)**

**Here's a nice long chapter for y'all after I so cruelly left you guys with a word count that didn't even exceed 2000 in the last chapter! Please let me know as always what you think!**

**Enjoy =)**

**P.S. Enter Castiel ;)**

* * *

Chapter 28

When Dean drew his first breath full of fresh air, he knew he'd never experienced anything better. He'd pulled himself out onto the grass and lain on his back for a few moments, just simply breathing in the smell of the oxygen and the freshness of the world around him. The sun was so bright that he wondered if it were fake—he'd never remembered the sun being that bright, and yet, there it was.

When he drank his first swallows of water, he decided that that was the best thing he'd ever experienced in his life, 1000 times better than his first breath of oxygen. He couldn't remember when his last drink of water had been, but to him, it felt like years. His throat had been dry and parched and completely raw, and he could only guess that that had come from not having used it for a while. Though, really, he wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been under.

When he knocked on Bobby's door and had stood under the stare of the shocked hunter, he made the official decision that that was the best moment he'd ever gone through. Until Bobby tried to attack him. He was surprised that he was still able to disarm the man so easily, especially if he'd been dead for years. He really wasn't sure how long he'd been dead, and he wanted to find out.

"Bobby! It's me!" he shouted.

"My ass!" the hunter yelled back at him. Dean backed away quickly, shoving a chair between the two of them.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait!" he shouted, holding out his hands in front of him. "Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife got possessed, and you raised Ariel when her family was killed by the Furies, and…you're about the closest thing I've got to a father. Bobby. It's me."

Bobby slowly lowered the knife, and Dean watched cautiously as he put a hand on his shoulder. He didn't believe that Bobby fully believed him yet, and he was right because Bobby slashed at him. With ease, Dean disarmed him and backed up.

"Goddammit! I'm not a shapeshifter!" he shouted.

"Then you're a Revenant!" Bobby shouted back, fury and hatred twisting his face as he looked at the dead Winchester in front of him.

"Alright. If I was either, could I do this—with a silver knife?" Dean rolled up his sleeve and brought the knife to his arm, slicing a nice, thin cut across, blood trailing down his arm. He looked up at Bobby to gauge his reaction. Bobby was gaping on him, and acceptance was finally beginning to cross his face.

"Dean?" he asked in disbelief.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Dean breathed. Suddenly, Bobby was in front of him, clasping him in his arms tightly. Relief flooded Dean's system as he realized that he was basically home. They both pulled back, looking at each other without quite believing it still.

"It's…it's good to see you, boy," Bobby said, his voice thick with emotion.

"Yeah, you, too," Dean said sincerely.

"But…how did you bust out?" Bobby asked, a frown on his face. Dean snorted and shrugged.

"I don't know. I just, uh, woke up in a pine box, and—" A splash of water in the face cut him of. Dean put on a deadpan, and he stared at Bobby with blank eyes. "I'm not a demon, either, you know."

"Sorry. Can't be too careful," Bobby replied with a sheepish shrug. He grabbed a towel from nearby and tossed it to Dean. They crossed into the living room. Dean smiled at all the familiarity of it—yeah, he was home.

"But…that doesn't make a lick of sense," Bobby said thoughtfully with a frown on his face.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're preaching to the choir," Dean agreed.

"Dean. Your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop. And you've been buried _four months_. Even if you could slip out of Hell and back into your meat suit—"

"I know, I should look like a "Thriller" video reject," Dean quipped.

"What do you remember?" Bobby asked curiously, squinting at the young man in front of him.

"Not much. I remember I was a hellhound's chew toy, and then…lights out. Then I come to six feet under. That was it. Sam's and Ariel's numbers aren't working. They're, uh…they're not…" Dean's voice trailed off as he stared wide-eyed at Bobby. Bobby looked away from him.

"Oh, Sam's alive. As far as I know," he answered. Relief came into Dean's green eyes.

"Good…wait, what do you mean as far as you know? And what about Ariel? They're not hunting together?" he asked in a confused tone.

"I haven't talked to him for months," Bobby replied in a vague tone, still not looking at Dean.

"You're kidding. You just let him go off by himself? Where's Ariel, Bobby? She didn't go with him?" Dean asked incredulously.

"He was dead set on it," Bobby said, still ignoring the question about Ariel.

"Bobby, you should've been looking after him!" Dean protested. "And where the hell's Ariel? I know when you're avoiding my questions, and that's what you're doing. What, is she hunting by herself or something?"

Bobby was quiet, and he looked down at his hands. Panic hit Dean square in the chest as he saw how the hunter wouldn't look at him and wouldn't respond.

"No," he said. "Bobby…Bobby, no."

Silently, Bobby nodded, and he finally looked up, his eyes rimmed with red as he held his emotions back. He wouldn't look Dean in the eye, but Dean could see from his face that there was no mistaking the emotion behind Bobby's reaction. He felt as though a fist were constricting tight around his heart, and he couldn't breathe. For a moment, he thought he was going to throw up.

"How long?" he asked, his voice tight.

"Four months. Same day as you," Bobby answered shakily. He finally met Dean's eyes and seemed to shrink back from the pain and anger in them.

"What?" Dean snapped. "What—what happened?"

"She summoned the Furies. Said she was gonna find you in Hell and bring you back." Bobby rubbed his fingers over his eyes and sighed.

"Why didn't you stop her? Did Sam try?" Dean demanded, anger suddenly filling his voice. Bobby glowered at him.

"Dammit, Dean, we had no idea what she was planning to do! She kept that secret from us for a long time, and she had to have been planning it for a long time because there's no way in hell that she could've pulled all that shit together at the last minute. Don't you think I would've stopped her if I could have?" he snapped. "These last few months haven't been easy, you know. For Sam or me. We had to bury you and Ariel."

Dean kept his mouth shut, his green eyes full of things he hadn't planned on feeling. He looked down at his hands and saw that he'd been gripping them together so tightly, his knuckles were white.

"When I came topside, I didn't see a grave next to me," Dean said slowly, forcing his words to come out.

"'Cause we didn't bury her with you. We buried her a mile or two away from you. Two dead hunters being right next to each other sure doesn't hold for good things," Bobby remarked, and he cleared his throat to steady himself.

"She's…she's really dead?" Dean asked. Bobby nodded morosely. Dean was still for a few moments, and then, without a word, he stood up and walked out of the house.

"Dean? Dean, where are you going? Dean!" Bobby shouted. He rushed after the young Winchester, watching him stalk furiously across the junkyard of cars. Dean paused in the middle of them and looked around him, his eyes fixed on a spot in front of him. His lips trembled, and Bobby approached him slowly. "Dean?"

Suddenly, Dean snapped. He grabbed a shovel that was conveniently on the ground, and he began hitting the destroyed cars. Bobby jumped, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he stood quietly and watched as Dean smashed out his anguish, just like he had when John had died. Glass smashed, and metal crunched as Dean beat the shit out of every inanimate object in life. Finally, he threw the shovel as far as he could.

"GODDAMMIT!" he screamed, his head tilted back and his arms down at his sides, his fists clenched. Bobby cautiously moved towards Dean as the young hunter put his hands on the top of his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Dean," Bobby said quietly. He put his hand on the hunter's shoulder; at the contact, Dean whirled around. For a moment, Bobby thought that Dean was going to hit him, but he saw the pain and the desperation in those green eyes, and he knew that that wasn't what Dean was going to do at all. "Come on."

He clasped his hand around the boy's neck in a fatherly way and led him back into the house. Dean was silent as Bobby guided him to the table in the kitchen again and grabbed him his own bottle of whiskey. Dean stared at it, as if he weren't entirely sure what to do with it. Tentatively, he reached out and took a swig, but the pain didn't leave his eyes. He knew he'd need a lot more to drown out his sorrows.

"Why'd you bury us, anyway?" Dean asked brokenly in a resigned voice, staring at the bottle.

"I wanted the both of you salted and burned. Usual drill. But…Sam wouldn't have it," Bobby carefully replied, eyeing Dean as if he were a wild animal who would lash out at him.

"Well, I'm glad he won that one," Dean replied in a monotone.

"He said you'd both need your bodies when he got you back home somehow. That's about all he said," Bobby answered.

"What do you mean?" Dean finally looked up and gazed suspiciously at Bobby.

"He was quiet. Real quiet. Then he just took off. Wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find him, but he didn't want to be found," Bobby said. Dean's face changed from suspicion to anger.

"Oh, dammit, Sam!" he hissed.

"What?" Bobby asked.

"Oh, he got me home, ok. But whatever it is, it's bad mojo." Dean paused. "Wait, if he got me back, do you think that means he got Ariel back?"

A sharp pain stabbed Bobby in the chest as hope flooded his system, but he breathed in slowly and exhaled and shrugged. "I don't know, boy. I don't wanna get my hopes up. God knows I've been let down enough already."

"If he didn't bring her back, we'll find a way. There's always gotta be a way," Dean said, his mind already racing at 3000 miles per hour.

"Wait, why do you think it's bad mojo?" Bobby asked curiously.

"You should've seen the gravesite. It was like a nuke went off. And then there was this…this force. This presence. I don't know, but it—it blew past me at a fill-up joint. And then this." Dean rolled his sleeve up and showed the strange handprint/burn-looking thing that was left on his arm. Bobby's expression instantly became alarmed.

"What in the hell?" he breathed.

"It was like a demon just yanked me out. Or rode me out," Dean added.

"But why?" Bobby questioned.

"To hold up their end of the bargain," Dean finished bitterly.

"You think Sam made a deal," Bobby said slowly. Dean nodded.

"It's what I would've done," he said. He snapped his fingers and pointed at Bobby in a way that made Bobby think of Ariel. It was the gesture she always made whenever she had a new thought or new idea. "Where'd you bury Ariel? Do you think you could take me there?"

Bobby frowned. "Yeah, I could. But why?"

"If Sam made a deal and got me back, he would've done the same for Ar. Come on. We can check out the gravesite and see if hers is in the same condition mine was in. If so, we know she's alive," Dean explained. Bobby's frown deepened.

"Dean, if she'd been brought back, don't you think she would've called here by now?" he asked. Realization hit Dean, but he gritted his teeth and shook his head.

"Come on. I've gotta see it, Bobby. I've got to," he said firmly. Bobby sighed and rubbed his chin with his hand. He hadn't been back to the gravesite since he'd buried her, and that'd been on purpose. He wasn't sure that he could handle going and looking at the ground where he knew she lay under, but the look on Dean's face told him that he was going to go with or without him, and if there were the tiniest chance that Ariel were alive, Bobby would go.

So he went.

* * *

Dean walked anxiously behind Bobby as the older hunter led the way into the woods. He didn't know what to expect; his heart was pounding so loud in his chest that he was sure Bobby could hear it, and he wasn't sure whether it was because he was terrified or excited. Sam had to have brought Dean back—there was no other explanation. Sam had done some stupid fucking thing, and he'd brought Dean. But Dean knew that Sam knew Dean would be pissed if he didn't bring Ariel back, too, so that could only mean that Ariel was alive.

He knew the gravesite before Bobby could say anything because it looked exactly the way his had when he'd broken the dirt to bring oxygen into his lungs. His eyes widened, and his heart began to pound even harder against his ribcage.

"Bobby, this is it!" he exclaimed. "She's alive! This is how my site looked, too!"

Dean ran forward into the center of the destruction to see a wooden cross with no name sticking up. The dirt had definitely been moved, making it look like someone had crawled out. Bobby was beside him, and he drew in a quick sharp breath as he saw the sight of it, too.

"I'll be goddamned," Bobby whispered. Dean looked around him, frantically searching the remaining trees to see if he could find her.

"Ariel? Ariel!" he shouted. "Ar!"

Silence answered. Dean swore out loud and began walking out towards the trees when Bobby grabbed his arm and turned him around.

"Dean, wait," he said. His eyes were wide with urgency. "We don't know if she's still here. Hell, we don't know if she's still even her."

"I don't care, Bobby," Dean said gruffly. "I need to find her. If she's not here, ok. But we find her."

"Arm yourself," Bobby warned. Dean frowned at him. "Look, I don't wanna shoot her either, but if it's some fucking monster instead of her, you don't wanna get sent back downstairs."

"But why would she come back as a monster, and I wouldn't?" Dean asked. Bobby shrugged, at a loss for words.

"I don't know, Dean. Monsters are fucked up like that."

"No," Dean said firmly, his eyes blazing with determination. "She's out there somewhere, and she's herself. We gotta find her."

"I've got my phone on me. Hopefully she'll pull what you did and give me a ring, too," Bobby said. Dean nodded, but it was obvious that his mind was elsewhere. He could hardly breathe. Just hours ago he'd thought that she was dead, but she wasn't; rationally, he knew that he should be concerned about what Sam had done to bring them back, and he _was_ concerned. But right then he had more pressing matters on his mind, and they all had to do with finding Ariel.

* * *

When Ariel finished fighting her way up through the dry, disgusting Earth, she sprawled out onto her stomach on the grass, gasping and gulping for oxygen in a way she never had before. Her memory took her back to her high school days when she used to run every day, always trying to outdo herself. Even then, she'd always been training, always trying to improve herself as a hunter. Her need for oxygen after a long, hard sprint was nothing compared to her need for oxygen now.

Dirt was in her eyes, and she swiped the back of her hand across her face in an effort to wipe the dirt clear, but she only succeeded in managing to spread it out more evenly across her face.

"Fuck," she said out loud, her voice coming out as a hoarse whispered strain. Grimacing, she pushed herself into a seated position, her eyes continually scanning over herself. This had to be a dream. She couldn't actually be alive again. Surely this was a dream. But as she literally pinched herself and felt the pain of it, she knew that she was alive. Euphoria waved over her, and she wanted to jump in the air and scream for joy, but she didn't feel too steady or in control of her body at the moment.

It was then that she noticed the state of the world around her. The surrounding trees and grass had been obliterated, and the remains of the destroyed nature were lying in a burnt-looking circle that spread out from her grave, making her the center of all the destruction. Her hunter's senses immediately kicked in, and she was extra alert as she scanned over the area for whatever it was that had caused this. She could sense a strong, overpowering presence of something she couldn't identify nearby, and it overwhelmed her. Suddenly, the Earth seemed to shake, and a loud, high-pitched sound came out of nowhere.

"Ariel Easton. Ariel Easton, I need to speak with you," a voice said. Ariel whirled around as best as she could from her spot in the destroyed grass, furiously trying to see who was speaking to her.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" she demanded, her voice that scraping, disgusting sound that made her think of nails on a chalkboard. The high tone seemed to get louder, and she winced. She lifted her hands to cover her ears, but the voice spoke again, stopping her.

"Ariel, you have an important duty."

"Who the fuck are you? What—what are you!" she shouted in a poor excuse for a shout.

"My name is Castiel, and I am an angel of the Lord," the voice said. Ariel continued to whip around to locate where the voice was coming from.

"What the fuck?" she asked incredulously. "Come out, goddammit!"

"I am searching for a vessel as we speak. Dean cannot comprehend my true voice the way you can, and I must obtain a vessel in order to communicate with him. Go to Astoria Motel, Room 207. You will find Sam Winchester there," the voice continued. It seemed as though it were coming from the piercing tone around her, but it seemed to be completely disembodied, and that didn't make sense.

"Sam? What? Wait, _Dean_? Dean's alive?" she asked, quickly scrambling shakily to her feet. She didn't feel terribly steady, but the Earth seemed to stop shaking, and the tone went away. "Shit—shit, don't—dammit!"

All was still, and she was by herself. Her heart thrummed hard beneath her ribcage. Whatever it was that had just spoken to her had referenced Dean as if he were alive. She found it hard to swallow as anticipation and hope swelled throughout her entire chest. Maybe she'd found a way to save him after all—she could only hope that she had.

But in the meantime, she needed to get to Astoria Motel, Room 207, where the voice had told her she'd find Sam. Sam. She began walking on unsteady feet, but as she took more steps, she became used to walking again. Glancing down over her body for what felt like the millionth time since she'd broken through the dirt, she wondered what the hell had pulled her out of Hell and brought her back here. And how long had she been dead? She didn't feel like she'd been out of action for longer than a week or so—she felt the way she did whenever she'd gotten the flu during her sophomore year of high school and had been laid up for about a week.

As she walked through the woods, she looked down at her hands, and for the first time, she realized that all of her scars were gone. Her hands looked as clean and clear and unmarred as if she were a brand new human altogether. Frowning, she brought them closer to her face to get a good long. Gone was the cut across her wrist that she'd gotten from sparring using knives with Elliot. Gone were the callouses and little nicks from every other job she'd ever worked. An idea struck her, and she lifted the bottom of her shirt, only to see that the wound where Astra had stabbed her through was gone. There was absolutely nothing but fresh, pure skin.

Letting out a slow breath, she lowered her shirt and lifted her gaze back in front of her, her eyebrows drawn together. First of all, she had no idea if she were walking in the right fucking direction; she was just walking in the direction that felt like it'd take her somewhere. Second of all, whatever it was that had pulled her out could either be good or bad, and in her experience, things that had the kind of power to pull her out of Hell were bad.

But she had nothing else to listen to, and if the voice had told her to go find Sam at Astoria Motel, Room 207, she would do that first and deal with the rest later. Something told her that Sam wasn't behind all of this—her resurrection went far beyond the power of anything that Sam could ever summon or produce. She just hoped that she could find the answers, and along with the answers, she hoped she could find Dean.

* * *

About a good solid hour later, Ariel found herself in the parking lot of Astoria Motel. She shut the door of the car that she'd jacked shortly after wandering out of the woods and into a small, semi-abandoned shopping mall. It hadn't taken that long to find the motel, and it'd been all by chance since she'd just been trying to find the library so she could use the computers to find an address for the place, but there she was.

Casually, she walked into the motel and straight past the desk as if she knew exactly where she were going. She kept her head held high as if she'd purposely been out rolling in the dirt and there were nothing wrong with being covered in dirt at all. Making a face, she glanced down at herself as she continued down the air conditioned hallway. Being a hunter was a dirty job, and she always hated being covered in dirt.

Trying not to burst into a run as the excitement of possibly seeing Sam overcame her, she made her way down the hall and up the stairs until she was at the room. Without missing a beat, she lifted her hand and pounded it on the door, her fingers curling into a fist to create a nice, solid bang. Her pulse picked up as she stood, waiting outside the door as she stared at the number 207.

Without any warning, the door was yanked open, and Sam was standing there in front of her gaping at her. He looked about the same, except maybe his hair was longer. She paused, wondering how long she'd been dead if his hair had grown out so much when a figure moved behind Sam in the background, and that was when she saw him.

Dean was standing right behind Sam, and he looked exactly as he had the last time she'd seen him. Her throat choking up, she began to move past Sam and towards him when Sam reached out and grabbed her, pushing her against the wall so hard that the breath was knocked out of her.

"What the fuck!" she snapped, her voice still hoarse as she glowered at the younger Winchester. "Jesus Christ, Sam, let me go!"

"Sam, stop it! Stop! It's her!" Dean shouted from over Sam's shoulder. He crossed swiftly towards his brother and grabbed his shoulder, looking pissed off and anxious and hopeful all at once.

"Dean, you don't know that," Sam said, shoving his brother off of him before turning to look at Ariel. "I'm sorry, but we've gotta know that you're you."

"Seriously?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows incredulously. "Ok, fine. Cristo. I can say that without flinching and freaking out. Who's got a silver knife?"

"Ariel?" a familiar voice spoke up. Her head whipped towards the voice, and she saw Bobby. He was slowly crossing towards her, looking shocked and in complete and total disbelief as his eyes took in the sight of her.

"Bobby," she said, smiling as tears filled her eyes. "Oh, God, am I glad to see you're ok."

"Sam, that's her," Bobby said, his eyes still glued to his foster daughter. Nonetheless, he pulled out a silver knife from his back pocket and handed it to Sam. Warily, Sam held it out to Ariel, and he stepped back as he watched her hold the blade to her skin and slice across it.

"Well, there goes my brand new threads," she quipped. She held the knife back towards Sam. "Is that it? Do I pass the test?"

Sam didn't verbally respond; instead, he stepped back and let Bobby rush forward to hug her tightly. Tears began to run down Ariel's cheeks, and she let out a shaky laugh as she squeezed onto him tightly.

"Hey, hey, come on," she said. "You're getting me emotional."

"I could kill you for all the stupid things you do," Bobby growled gruffly in her ear, but as he pulled away from her, she could see a glistening in his eyes that told her he was beyond happy to see her. And then there was Dean. Dean standing just over Sam's shoulder, still staring at her as if he couldn't believe his eyes. He stood as still as a statue, and that was when she saw a shininess in his own big, green eyes.

"Dean," she said quietly. He was so beautiful in every way, shape, and form, and she couldn't get past it as she willed her muscles to move. She took a step towards him, and that was all the encouragement he needed. Quickly, he moved towards her and swept her into his arms, squeezing her even tighter than Bobby had when he'd hugged her. She finally let the tears go as she felt how solid and warm and _real_ he was under her palms. He even smelled the same, like clean soap, shaving cream, and something else she couldn't label that was just so him she knew the person in her arms couldn't be anyone other than Dean.

He pulled back and looked at her, drinking in the sight of her even underneath all the dirt. She was the most gorgeous thing he'd ever seen—hell, he'd never seen dirt look so goddamn pretty, and he started laughing. Unsure of how to react, she started nervously laughing, but watching Dean laugh harder and harder over something she didn't understand just seemed funnier and funnier to her with each passing second, and before she knew it, she found herself laughing, too. She clutched him and laughed, tears streaming down her face as he pulled back and kissed her lightly across her cheeks in between laughs before placing his mouth on hers.

Her giggles died down as the warm, familiar taste of him was on her tongue, and she balled her fists in the sleeves of his shirt. The kiss wasn't long, considering the fact that Bobby and Sam were still in the room, awkwardly trying to decide if they should continue watching the touching reunion or if they should look away, but it was enough. She tried to calm her beating heart as she pulled back to look up at him. He had that signature half-smirk on his face that made her heart puddle into a thousand little fallen raindrops as he gazed back down at her.

"Couldn't stay away from me for too long, couldja, Beauty Queen?" Dean asked. She laughed giddily and pulled him in for another hug, placing her head on his chest as his arms wrapped back around her. She could hear his heart beating and feel his chest rising and sinking as he breathed in and out, and that was only further confirmation that he was actually there with her.

"How—how is this even possible?" she asked. Reluctantly, she released him from her grasp, but he didn't take his hands away from her. Instead, he kept one arm around her shoulders as she slipped neatly back against his side, standing the way that they usually did.

"Fuck if I know," Dean replied. "I thought Sammy made a deal, but…"

"Be glad you missed that little catfight," Bobby snorted. "Bunch of fools yelling at each other."

"And where the hell have you been?" Dean asked, drawing back from her to gaze curiously at her. "We've been trying to track you for the past hour with no luck. While we were at it, we were able to track Sammy down."

"As soon as I pulled myself out of the dirt, I jacked a car and came here," Ariel responded. She snapped her fingers and pointed at Dean, missing the fond smile that came over Bobby's face as he saw her do her signature thinking gesture. "When I was reorienting myself with being alive again, something happened. Something weird as fuck."

"What? What happened?" Sam asked, moving closer in towards all of them. She frowned and looked up at him absentmindedly.

"A voice. Everything kind of started shaking, and then there was this loud, high pitch sound, and then a voice started talking to me, saying that it was an angel of the Lord named Castiel and needed to find a vessel in order to talk to Dean and me. Whoever it was told me to come here, so…here I am," she finished with a shrug.

"Ok, how the _hell_ does this not sound fucked up?" Dean angrily demanded, looking towards Bobby and Sam. "There's something going on, and it's something bad."

"Dean, if it were something bad, why wouldn't it have killed me?" Ariel asked.

"I don't know. Monsters work in fucked up ways. Ar—angels don't exist," Dean protested. Ariel shrugged and nodded in a conceding manner.

"I know, but…I'm at a loss," she said. "One minute I was looking up at Sam and asking him to take care of Bobby, and the next minute, I was freaking out in a coffin under the ground."

Dean crossed to the couch and sat down, Ariel following behind him to sit next to him. Sam and Bobby sat in chairs across from them, worried looks on all their faces as they tried to think about what could possibly have done this.

"Hey, Sam," Dean said suddenly. "What were you doing around here if you weren't digging me out of my grave?"

"Well, once I figured I couldn't save you guys, I started hunting down Lilith, trying to get some payback," Sam replied carefully, his eyes wary as he waited for Dean's reaction. He glanced over at Ariel and saw her frowning, though she didn't look like she was going to scold him for trying to get revenge—she looked like she was remembering the last time she'd seen Lilith, when the demon had tried to blast her and Sam to kingdom come and nothing had happened.

"All by yourself," Bobby accusingly piped up. "Who do you think you are, your old man?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm sorry, Bobby. I should've called. I was pretty messed up," Sam answered, purposely looking away from Ariel. The blonde hunter frowned even more deeply as she realized the meaning of the conversation that had passed between Bobby and Sam.

"Wait, Sam—you just ditched?" she asked, the pitch of her voice rising slightly at the end. "I asked you to look after Bobby."

"Ar—"

"Bullshit!" Bobby interrupted Sam. "I didn't need looking after."

"My ass!" Ariel protested with a snort. Bobby glared at her.

"Language," he grumbled, but he didn't say anything else.

"Ar, I'm sorry. Like I said…I was pretty messed up. I couldn't save Dean, and I couldn't save you. It was all my fault that the two of you were gone," Sam plaintively argued. Ariel sighed and shook her head, running her hand through her hair and then grimacing when she remembered that she was still dirty. Something caught her eye on the floor, and she picked it up. Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline as she held the pink, flowered bra up for everyone in the room to see.

"Oh, yeah. I really feel your pain," she replied in a mild tone.

"Anyways," Sam said quickly, ready to change the subject. "Uh, I was checking these demons out of Tennessee, and out of nowhere, they took a hard left and booked up here."

"When?" Ariel asked.

"Yesterday morning," Sam answered.

"When I busted out," Dean said, realization dawning on him. "Ar, you said you were alive earlier today?"

"Yeah, I've only been back for maybe an hour and a half? Shit, I don't know," she replied with a shrug.

"You think these demons are here 'cause of you two?" Bobby asked.

"But why?" Sam added.

"Well, I don't know. Some badass demon drags me out and now this? It's gotta be connected somehow," Dean said thoughtfully. Ariel shook her head firmly.

"No, I really don't think it was a demon that got us here," she said. "Whatever this Castiel thing really is, he's gotta be involved. Why else would he be at my gravesite?"

"Why wasn't—" Dean suddenly stopped. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit!"

"What?" Bobby asked, concern crossing his face.

"Remember how I told you when I was at the gas station there was this…this presence, and it blew out the windows and everything?" Dean asked, his words spilling quickly out of his mouth as he spoke.

"Yeah," Bobby said slowly.

"What if that was this Castiel character?" Dean asked. "But if it was, why couldn't I hear him? Why can Ariel hear him, and I can't?"

"Those are some million dollar questions we don't know yet," Ariel sighed.

"How you two feeling, by the way?" Bobby asked. Ariel looked over at him, noticing how his demeanor had changed to suddenly a little cautious of both her and Dean, and she frowned in confusion.

"I'm a little hungry," Dean replied in a matter of fact tone.

"Actually, now that you mention it," Ariel added.

"No, I mean, do you feel like yourselves? Anything strange, or different?" Bobby pressed.

"Or demonic? Bobby, how many times do I have to prove it's me?" Dean snapped in a frustrated tone. Bobby ignored Dean's outburst and looked over at Ariel.

"I feel totally like me," she said. "Hungry as shit. Oh, I have brand new skin. No scars or marks or anything."

"Wait," Dean said suddenly. He slid his arm out of his button-down and shoved the sleeve of his t-shirt up, exposing his mark. "Do you have one of these?"

"Holy shit!" Ariel gasped in surprise. "I don't know. I didn't look."

Without saying anything, she slipped her arm out of her loose shirt and examined her own left arm. Sure enough, red and bright as day, there was the same mark that Dean had on his arm. She let out a gasp and then a low whistle.

"Well, I'll be damned," she said.

"Listen—even if it's this Castiel character, we got a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help," Sam said, his eyes glued onto Ariel's mark.

"I know a psychic," Bobby piped up. "A few hours from here. Something this big, maybe she's heard the other side talking."

"Hell yeah, it's worth a shot," Dean said.

"Yo, I'm game," Ariel said, sliding her arm back into her shirt and readjusting it again.

"I'll be right back." Bobby got up and left to go make the call, leaving the three young hunters to themselves. What Ariel wanted to do more than anything was launch herself right at Dean and never let him out of her arms again, but Sam was sitting there, and she knew that realistically, she'd have to let Dean go at some point.

"Hey, you probably want this back," Sam said suddenly. He reached up to behind his neck and pulled the necklace out that'd been living under his collar. He slipped it over his head and then held it out to Dean, carefully watching his brother's reaction. Dean's eyes instantly lit up, and he stared at it in his hand.

"Thanks," he said softly.

"Yeah, don't mention it," Sam replied. He watched Dean put on the necklace, inwardly smiling as it felt like Dean was actually back. He leaned back in his seat and gazed curiously at both Ariel and Dean. "Hey, what was it like?"

Ariel blinked, unsure if she'd heard the question correctly. She glanced over at Dean and saw him gazing steadily back at Sam.

"What, Hell? I don't know. I—I must have blacked it out. I don't remember a damn thing," he said with a casual shrug. Sam looked over at Ariel.

"Ar, do you remember anything?"

"No," she said, lying through her teeth as she kept her face calm. "Same with me. I don't have any memories whatsoever."

Sam nodded, contemplating what the two had said. "Well, thank God for that."

"I doubt God has anything to do with it," Ariel replied with a smirk. "Whatever Castiel is, 10 bucks says he's not an angel. We of all people know that angels don't exist."

Sam gave her a curious look, but he didn't say anything. "I'm gonna go check up on Bobby. I'm sure you two want a few minutes by yourselves, anyway. And I mean a few minutes. Not like, an hour."

Dean scoffed. "What, why you telling us that?"

"Dude, I don't wanna come back and see the two of you making up for lost time," Sam answered with a grin. He clapped Dean on the shoulder and smiled at Ariel before turning around and walking out of the room. Ariel watched him leave but not for long because there was only one thing really on her mind, and it was the man sitting beside her. She turned to look at him, and he took that as his cue to draw her in tightly to him.

"I don't know if I should kiss you or yell at you," he said in a gruff voice, his chin resting on top of hers. "Do you have any idea how horrified I felt when Bobby told me what you did?"

"Don't scold me," Ariel said flippantly as she rested her head against his chest and threw her legs over his lap. "I couldn't let you die and just rot in Hell like that. I had to try to save you."

"Did you?" Dean asked, pulling back to gaze intensely at her. "Ariel, did you get us out of there?"

"No! God, no, I have no idea what the hell got us out," she protested wildly. "Besides, I don't remember Hell. Do you?"

Dean studied her face, trying to gauge if she were lying or not. She kept her big blue eyes wide and innocent, and she hoped that Dean didn't know her well enough to know that she was lying her ass off. Finally, he shook his head, but he didn't quite look her in the eye. He maintained eye contact, but she could see that he was somewhere else.

"No," he said, and she knew he was lying to her just as much as she was lying to him, but she didn't say anything; she didn't care. Hell wasn't something that she was ready to talk about just yet, and she knew that he couldn't have been any more ready to take that step, either. So she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss him firmly on the mouth.

This time they took their time, especially since they didn't have Sam and Bobby awkwardly staring at them. Dean's throat tightened as the realization that kissing Ariel was the exact same way as he'd remembered it. He lost himself in the feeling and the taste of her again.

"Damn, I love you," he said. She grinned at him.

"Sure am glad to hear that again," she replied. "I love _you_."

"But seriously. When I got to Bobby's, and he told me that you were dead…I—I don't know. I don't wanna do that again," he said.

"Well, I didn't enjoy being told that you'd made a deal with a Crossroads Demon, so we're even," she smartly replied. He opened his mouth to protest, but she covered it with her hand and shook her head. "Enough. I'm gonna grab a quick shower while Bobby's on the phone. Don't give me that look—I'd normally invite you, but…company." She grinned at his forlorn look and then grimaced as she looked at the dirt on her hand. "Dammit, I don't have any other clothes to wear than these dirt-covered, nasty things."

"I've got an extra shirt out in the car that you can wear," Dean suggested. Ariel groaned.

"Ok. I'll wear that, but I'll have to wear this shit again." She stood up and then leaned down and kissed him deeply one last time before turning and walking into the bathroom. Without wasting any time, she got the hot water running and steaming up the bathroom, and she began to strip off her filthy clothes. She wondered if trying to wash them in the sink with soap and water would do anything, but she had no way to dry them, so she decided it'd better just to let them be.

She leaned forward to the mirror that was beginning to fog with the steam of the bathroom, and she studied her face, amazed at how brand spanking new her skin looked. Without any warning, she was back in Hell. There was darkness and a red glow, and she could hear screaming off in the distance. Panic and terror welled up in her chest, and she tried to pull at the restraints keeping her wrists from moving, but she stumbled backwards into the door. The physical contact brought her out of her flashback, and her chest heaved with gasps as she tried to calm down. Embarrassed, she pulled herself up to her full height and swallowed hard, her heart still beating loudly in her chest.

"You're not in Hell," she whispered to herself. The shower was loud enough to drown her words so that no one else could hear her. She felt stupid for speaking out loud to herself, but on some level, it did make her feel the tiniest bit better, and she would accept what little bit of comfort that she could at this point. Breathing deeply, she stripped her shirt and jeans off, half-wishing that Dean were with her and half-thanking herself for not allowing him to come with. The thought of freaking out in front of him about Hell just wasn't an option for her. At least not yet.

* * *

"Bobby!" Pamela Barnes swept Bobby into a fierce strong hug, surprising everyone by lifting him a couple inches off the ground. Ariel grinned as she watched; she hadn't seen Pamela in years, but it looked like the beautiful brunette hadn't changed at all. The psychic's big brown eyes landed on Ariel, and she immediately pulled her towards her in a huge hug as well.

"Ariel, it has been _years_ since I last saw you. You had to have been, what, 21? Young and innocent as can be," she said with a laugh and a huge grin.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," Bobby said with a chuckle. Pamela put her attention back on the older hunter while Ariel made eye contact with Dean.

"She'll try to grab your ass," Ariel mouthed. Dean frowned, clearly confused and unsure of what she was saying.

"What?" he mouthed back.

"Your ass," Ariel mouthed widely, miming with her hands the motion of what grabbing an ass looked like while darting her eyes and jerking her head back towards Pamela to signal that Pamela would be the one doing it. Dean and Sam still continued to look confused, but Ariel had run out of time to keep warning them because Pamela had turned around to look at them.

"So, these are the boys?" she asked, her eyes skimming them up and down in that hungry way that only Pamela could get away with. Ariel smirked and folded her arms across her chest.

"Sam, Dean. This is Pamela Barnes, best damn psychic in the state," Bobby said by way of introduction.

"Hey," Dean greeted in a gruff tone.

"Hi," Sam said awkwardly. Ariel lifted her eyebrows and glanced over at Bobby, who only shrugged with an amused look on his face at Sam's awkwardness around the beautiful woman.

"Mmm-mmm-mmm. Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back into the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual," Pamela said, her voice oozing with flirtation. Dean awkwardly cleared his throat.

"I—I'm in a committed relationship," he stammered. Pamela winked and laughed.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt," she teased.

"Oh—uh—I—I think she'd know," Dean protested, his eyes glancing over towards Ariel. Pamela followed his gaze and saw the blonde hunter looking terribly amused by everything that had taken place. The psychic laughed good-naturedly and crossed over to Ariel, clapping her on the shoulder.

"You're a lucky guy, kid," she said. "This little spitfire here's a catch of a lifetime."

Ariel wrinkled her nose playfully at Dean, who just rolled his eyes.

"Great, something else to boost her ego," he said dramatically.

"So, you hear anything?" Bobby asked as Pamela shut the door behind them.

"Well, I Ouija'd my way through a dozen spirits. No one seems to know who broke your star couple out or why," she answered. "No one's heard of anything named Castiel, either."

"So what's next?" Bobby asked.

"A séance, I think. See if we can see who exactly did the deed. And if it's Castiel, then we'll have some answers," she replied.

"You're not gonna…summon the damn thing here," Bobby said with a frown.

"No. I just want to get a sneak peek at it. Like a crystal ball without the crystal." Pamela shrugged with a smile on her face.

"Shit, I'm in," Ariel said and glanced up at Dean.

"I'm game," he agreed.

"Perfect," Pamela said happily. "Then let's get started."

* * *

Dean sat at the round table between Pamela and Sam while Ariel sat across from him between Pamela and Bobby. He stared hard at Ariel to try to get her attention. She was looking around the room as Pamela finished setting up, completely oblivious to his pathetic attempts at telepathically communicating with her. He loudly coughed, and finally she looked over at him. He raised his eyebrows at her, trying to ask her what the hell was going on, and she gave him a sharp stare that told him to hush.

"Right. Take each other's hands," Pamela announced as soon as she was finished. Ariel took Bobby's hand in hers, beaming up at him before looking back at Pamela, her palm open beside the woman. "And I need to touch something our mystery monster touched."

Dean pulled his arm out of his sleeve and slid up his t-shirt to reveal the brand. He glanced over at Ariel again, and she gave him a playful wink. Pamela let out a low whistle and then looked back at the blonde hunter.

"You have one of these, too?" she asked. Ariel nodded.

"Left side, same as his," she said. Pamela looked back at Dean's mark and shook her head, sighing wistfully.

"Aren't you lucky, getting to spend time alone with those biceps," she said jokingly and winked over her shoulder at Ariel who only snickered back appreciatively in response. Dean looked like he wasn't sure if he wanted to be proud or die. He watched Pamela place her hand on his brand, and she closed her eyes.

"Ok," she said. Ariel took that as her cue to close hers, too, and she steadied her breathing. "I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle." The TV flicked on, static going crazy. Ariel opened her eyes and found Dean staring at it. He looked at her and frowned. Suddenly, the high-pitch tone was back, and she heard the voice.

"Do not proceed. My name is Castiel, and I am warning you to turn back," the voice said. Ariel's eyes widened, and she gasped.

"Castiel," she said.

"Castiel? No. Sorry, Castiel, I don't scare easy," Pamela said in a determined voice, still not opening her eyes.

"Castiel?" Dean asked, looking at Ariel.

"Turn back. You cannot withstand looking upon my true form," the thing called Castiel insisted.

"Pamela, don't," Ariel warned. "He's right. Don't do it."

"I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face," Pamela said, ignoring Ariel and continuing.

"Stop! Do not do this! I am warning you that you _cannot_ see my true form!" Castiel said, his tone urgent and insistent. Ariel saw the room shaking and the static getting louder as he became more and more firm.

"Pamela, stop!" Ariel shouted.

"Maybe we should stop," Bobby added, looking at the panicked Ariel and the determined Pamela.

"I almost got it," Pamela said. "I command you, show me your face! Show me your face!"

"I warned you," Castiel said, and suddenly, Pamela screamed, her eyes opening and revealing white-hot flames inside them. Ariel let out a sharp gasp and frantically scrambled backwards. She was suddenly surrounded by fire—fire was everywhere, and she couldn't see, and she couldn't breathe. All she could hear was the crackling fire and the voices screaming her name for help, but she couldn't help them. She didn't realize that she was crying out until she heard Dean's voice.

"Ariel! Ariel! Ar—where are you!" he was shouting. Suddenly, her vision cleared, and she saw that she was no longer inside a ring of fire, and there were no voices screaming for her help. Dean was staring down at her with frantic concern, and she could hear Sam and Bobby shouting something in the background along with the pained, panicked cries coming from Pamela.

"Dean," she gasped out, and he grabbed her and pulled her to him. That was when she noticed that she was on the floor, her chair beside her on its back as Dean enveloped her. He wrapped his arms around her, and he could feel her heart racing against his chest. She was shaking hard, but he just tightened his grasp on her. He'd known the night before that she'd been lying about not remembering Hell. She remembered it as vividly as he did, and this was only proof of it.

One moment, Ariel had been sitting there, looking upset about this Castiel thing, and then when Pamela's eyes had gone up in flames, Ariel had let out a horrible cry and landed on the floor where she'd started freaking out, seeing things that he couldn't see with her. But the thing was that he knew Ariel was strong; she was so, so strong—in fact, he suspected that she was stronger than he was. He had the same flashbacks to Hell, too, but he couldn't help wondering what the fuck had happened to her downstairs to make her lose control like this. He just hoped that it hadn't been what had happened to him.


End file.
